World of Warcraft - Into the Void
by ViMiLu
Summary: Renowned priest Samuel Legend is one step away from earning the title of Bishop. In order to achieve this righteous honor, he must do what none of his peers have ever dared and delve into the mysterious world of the shadow to complete his tome of research. However, the Light may be ill-prepared to handle the looming horrors lurking within.
1. Prologue

World of Warcraft – Into the Void

By ViMiLu

 **Prologue:**

Hazy winds carrying the soft summer breeze wafted through the cemetery as if carefully tiptoeing in order not to disturb any of the gravestones. Crystal blue skies radiated above highlighting the immensely powerful gleaming sun shining its sharp rays on the earth below.

Samuel Legend stood solemnly in front of a familiar tomb. His shimmering gold eyes pierced through the crystalline lenses of his glasses and stared at the markings, continuously pouring over the words as if seeing them for the first time. The soft winds caressed through the strands of his long and shining silver hair. Even with it carefully tied behind him it still couldn't help but dance against the ensuing breeze.

The renowned priest's attire was somewhat unformal for the occasion. He donned his white battle regalia complete with silver and black trim with pockets of golden cloth and imbedded gems sewn throughout. This was the first time he had worn this outfit since leaving the shores of that dreaded continent of Northrend and yet, the clothes fit him as if he had worn nothing else.

A year had passed since he last visited this grave. Time seemed to flow so much more quickly now that the campaign in the north was over. Every second spent in battle seemed to freeze the clock entirely. Ironically, life appeared to move faster while things were boring.

The hallowed grass of the cemetery crunched behind Samuel. He took a heavy breath and did not even glance behind him as the approaching footsteps drew closer.

"You have been standing out here for nearly an hour," the regally stern yet surprisingly angelic voice called. "And I thought I was the sentimental one."

The priest didn't bother to respond. His beloved twin sister Zariyana quickly stood beside him. She was dressed more fitting for the atmosphere, donning a black silk dress and allowed her silver hair to flow down to the center of her back. They were near equals in looks and talent however, despite being genetically identical to one another, that is where their similarities ended.

An uncomfortable silence soon filled the air. The female Legend twin gazed upon her brother's unflinching expression. His eyes were fixated on the tombstone's inscription. Despite being only a few choice words, he looked upon them as if meticulously searching for meaning in-between them.

"Here lies Renault Legend," Zariyana spoke. Her voice grew colder with every breath. "A man of great wisdom, insight, and passion."

She immediately scoffed at the remark.

"If only the world could see him through our eyes. Then they wouldn't be writing such sweet

things about him."

Such captivating words were not written by either of Renault's children. They did not share the same love of that man that many of their noble's and lords have come to know. The former heir of the Legend name seemingly lived two separate lives. In some eyes, he was the beloved Court Magistrate, renowned for his wisdom and intellect who sat on the King's high council and served as a gracious advisor of the people's interest. However, behind the closed doors of Legend Keep, he was anything but gracious and beloved. The law of the Eastern Kingdoms and the law of their home were so different, they could be considered separate continents altogether.

"I do not understand why anyone, especially you Samuel, would pay him the honor of so much of your time," she scornfully continued. "We've finally been freed and yet, here you stand, unable to let go of the past."

Her expression dimmed. She peered into her twin's eyes hoping to illicit some sort of a response. Despite her efforts, the priest's resolve did not wane and didn't offer so much as a flinch in response.

"I didn't know he meant that much to you," mocked the female Legend twin. "I should not be surprised. You were always closer to him than I ever was."

Zariyana was speaking from her heart more so than she did from her mind. It was a growing trend with her lately in the time since their father passed. She had adapted to the change differently than Samuel had anticipated but still seemed logical all things considering.

The priest took another long and calculated breath. His sister knew not what she spoke. Changes would soon be coming upon their house. Samuel was not here simple to reflect about the past but also, contemplate about the future that soon awaited him. However, her comments were not too far off the mark either.

Another gust of heavy wind passed between them. The ensuing silence was making the atmosphere thicker with each passing moment. There was no use standing here for much longer. It was not like he could delay the inevitable for much longer. The burden of their legacy would now fall upon his shoulders. Samuel offered a silent prayer in the hopes he was prepared to bear it all.

The priest decided he had mulled long enough. He was done agonizing over the future that would soon come to fruition with the same calculation and dedication he offered his own personal studies. No matter what challenges presented themselves before Samuel, he always put his duty above all else. Noble's knew no greater pride than to fulfill it with earnest.

At long last, the time for reminiscing was finally over. Mulling over the dead was for this long was clearly not this priest's style. He turned and quickly made his exit out of the cemetery without leaving another thought or glance behind him. There was still much work to be done.


	2. Chapter 1

_Legend Keep_

 _Stormwind City_

The stench of ancient tomes and scripts filled the air of the massive study. Samuel had spent countless hours within these walls reading many of the books residing within from cover to cover. While he barely scratched the surface of the library in its entirety, the priest is the only member of the Legend household who has come the closest to finishing them all.

Despite passing a year ago, Renault's presence still lingered heavily in this room. This is where the former head of the Legend household spent most of his time as did his children. Whether they were studying or being scolded, the memories of this place would not be soon forgotten.

Samuel stood above the desk near the back of the chamber carefully rolling parchments into scroll cases and loading them into his leather book strap. Lying next to it was a massive tome, trimmed with gold and ornate silver decorations throughout the cover and spine. This was the priest's most prized possession. Held within the thick book was every speck of knowledge and memory he would ever come to experience throughout his entire life. Every divine incantation he would ever practice to the simplest records of each meal he had consumed was written inside.

The tome was a gift from the priest's father upon his third birthday when he was beginning to learn to speak and write properly. Renault had ordered his son to document as much of life as he could upon those pages because memory was a fickle thing but you could always trust ink and parchment. That was the very first thing inscribed upon the book and one of the few pleasant quotes spoken by him as well.

After the scroll cases were secured into the book strap, Samuel carefully wrapped the leather strips across and around his sacred tome. Though some would exercise more caution with such a treasured possession, the priest preferred the simplicity of carrying his book openly over his shoulder. In case something came up, no matter how trivial or dire, he could quickly access the tome with a simple flick of the silver lock and immediately begin pouring through the stored knowledge much faster than a backpack.

The desk had been cleaned of any remaining traces of Samuel's belongings save for a single scroll nestled next to a candle in the corner. It carried the golden seal of the Church of the Holy Light. The linear emblem resembled the staves carried by many of the clerics and acolytes but the priest always knew it as that silly decoration fitted atop the atrocious hats worn by their higher-ranking members.

It wasn't the sender that Samuel was concerned with but rather, the message contained within. Archbishop Benedictus had summoned the priest to the Cathedral of Light this morning without so much as a reason given. Anyone who worked for or even within the church knew that when the Archbishop calls upon you, it is your sworn duty to answer which is why Samuel offered no response other than to heed his superiors request. While he wasn't exactly sure what Benedictus wanted, the priest thought it best to prepare for every contingency logically possible in this scenario.

A pair of soft knocks at the far door disturbed the otherwise humble silence in the study. Samuel pulled his eyes from the scroll and stared at the entry way. Standing beneath the frame was an elegant woman dressed in a silken silver dress that shimmered brightly even beneath the faint light of the distant sconces. Her light, platinum blonde colored hair was finely brushed and sat comfortable over her shoulders and down her back. Though the current eldest member of the household, Lady Alyssandra Legend's soft cream skin was smooth and vigorous as any woman half her age.

"Good morning Samuel," she spoke softly with a small but distinct smile.

The way she carried herself was as if she were queen instead of the widow of a simple lord and noble. Every word she uttered through her gentle pink lips was graceful and angelic.

"Good morning mother," returned the priest with a stern and unflinching gaze.

Samuel immediately returned his eyes to the desk and prepared to affix the strap of his bag over his head as Alyssandra carefully approached. Though thin in frame, each step she took forward thundered loudly within the priest's mind. He could easily sense this would not be a pleasant conversation for either of them.

"As you know," she timidly began. "It has been a year since your father has passed."

The manner at which his mother spoke struck a chord with Samuel. Alyssandra had spent so much time writhing under the relentless thumb of her husband that any semblance of her former self may have been extinguished entirely. Even now while his body rots inside of an ornate wooden box she still cannot even speak of him with even a hint of affection. That was just the kind of affect Renault had on anyone who was close to him.

Though this discussion had only just begun, it appeared to quickly tax the priest's pool of patience at a rapid rate. Samuel didn't even bother with a response. He immediately fastened the final strap to the length of his likening and slung it over his head and allowed it to sit comfortable over his shoulder and across his chest.

"It is time to start thinking about the future of this house," his mother continued. "In order to become the official Lord, we must begin the preparations as soon as possible."

This is what he was dreading to hear. For once, a small part of the priest was actually upset that his father had passed to soon and forced this burden upon him. Samuel knew this day would come eventually. He had just foolishly hoped he would have been farther along in his studies and would feel more aptly prepared for the responsibility. However, he quickly realized that he could live to be a thousand years old and still not welcome it.

"An arranged marriage?" Sighed the priest. Samuel tried his best not to show his contempt but he decided it was best to be blunt and honest instead of stifling his emotions. "Was this _his_ will as well?"

Alyssandra averted her gaze from her son, lowered her head and meekly nodded. The priest knew the answer but he wanted to bear witness to his mother acknowledging as well. Any time even a hint of his presence was mentioned, his mother would tense up and become so submissive and weak-willed. It was such a sickening sight; the priest could hardly even look upon her.

Samuel knew the story all too well. There hasn't been an unmarried Lord of the Legend household for more than a year at any given generation. It was the head of the household's duty to find suitable matches for their children before they passed. Renault had seemingly begun his own preparations for his two kin before he fell ill in the spring and passed not too long after. Both siblings had be taught countless times from when they were infants until the very day their father died that nothing was more important than continue the proud Legend name. Many things had come and gone that had thwarted Renault's efforts but now, there was nothing stopping Samuel from continuing his legacy.

"Has a match been chosen already?" Asked the priest while boring down upon his mother's lowered eyes.

"No," Alyssandra answered while gently shaking her heard. "Before he passed, your father discussed a few of suitable houses. I have arranged messages to be delivered to them later this afternoon inviting them for a discussion."

His mother was still avoiding eye contact with him. Everything seemed to eerily calm and natural it was almost as if they were planning on what meal to consume for supper instead of the very future of the esteemed Legend name.

However, something about her tone and manner irked at the priest's patience. Zariyanna was quick to shed their father's cloak of presence from her shoulders but for some reason, Alyssandra still carried herself as if he continually stood behind her. Samuel wasn't quite sure what to make of it but it quickly grew to annoy him the longer he lingered upon that thought.

"I cannot be bothered with such trivial things," he answered. "I must take my leave."

The priest immediately snatched the scroll from the table. The parchment fibers nearly crumbled in his tightened grip as Samuel brushed passed his mother without a passing glance.

"Trivial?" Alyssandra curiously called out. "Samuel… Wait. Where are you going?"

She instinctively reached out to her son but pulled her hand back as the priest stopped dead in his tracks. Samuel was just a mere few paces from the door.

"I have been called for a meeting at the church by the Archbishop," the priest answered. "I am unsure as to why but I may be gone for quite some time. Once I return, we will continue this discussion."

He slowly turned his neck and grimaced with most of his expression masked behind his spaulder save for a single piercing eye.

"Is that alright mother?"

Terror filled Alyssandra's expression. It was as if she were staring at a ghost. Samuel did not mean to frighten her. It was just that he was not ready to have this conversation and would do anything, including eliciting negative emotions, to avoid it.

The priest stepped through the doorway without any final parting words. There were still many thoughts clouding his mind and seemingly no time to sort them all out. Samuel only hoped that this call to the church regarding something important. Anything that could take his mind of his home and name for even but a few short hours would be welcomed with open arms.

 _Cathedral Square_

 _Stormwind City_

The grand citadel and capital of the Church of the Holy Light was always a sight to bestow. Massive white stones were stacked so high that even the sun would become blotted out when standing beside the structure just past mid-day. A wide array of steps draped with a magnificent blue cloth trimmed with gold along the edges led up to a finely carved archway.

Samuel casually walked up the steps ignoring all of the other residents and denizens nearby. Worshipers flocked to this place seeking guidance and moral support for dilemmas they are either powerless to change or lack the will to even try. Though the priest was trained and practiced the art of servicing the citizens of Stormwind, that was his least favorite part of donning the mantle.

The scent of ancient masonry filled Samuel's lungs as he reached the top of the stairs. A pair of acolytes stood vigilantly at each side of the entrance. One quick glance at the priest and the emblems sewn into his robes told them Samuel belonged here and offered him not even the slightest hint of hesitation as he passed through.

Decorative white stone decorated the path inside of the cathedral. Sky blue checkerboard borders sat beside a collection of thick stone columns that arched along the edges leading towards the main altar at the far western end of the church. Rooms to the north and south were filled with bookshelves and packed with the knowledge and wisdom of hundreds of fellow priests that have come and gone long before Samuel donned these robes. Perhaps his own tome or another one of his future works would sit alongside theirs. That would be a very esteemed honor but not one the priest was personally trying to achieve.

Standing at the top of the steps near the altar and a trio of tall stained-glass windows was the Archbishop Benedictus himself. Even from this distance it was almost too difficult to miss him. He was dressed in a suit of gaudy white and gold robes. What was left of his greyed hair peeked underneath his hood for just enough light to sneak inside and reveal his elderly and bearded face. The Archbishop was surprisingly missing his usual entourage of bishops and other members of his council. Two unfamiliar priests stood on opposing sides of him as he continued to talk and ramble on about whatever topic of interest that was indiscernible from this distance. Samuel cared little about the details as he continued his approach down the path towards them.

A pair of metal staves clashed together before the priest. Their sharpened ping upon contact resonated heavily within his ears but did little more that irk his patience.

"Halt!" Yelled one of the armored acolytes.

"No one is allowed near the altar by order of the Bishop." The second spat. "State your business!"

If Samuel unleashed the physical manifestation of his annoyance the very walls of this church would quake. These two couldn't have been more than a month or two fresh out of graduation which could have accounted for their passionate fulfillment of their duty. His expression did not yield as he continued to star coldly at them while slowly reaching for the uncased scroll strapped alongside his tome.

"Hold it!"

The acolytes shouted in unison while sliding their weapons forward just inches from the priest's neck. These two must view such a menial task with extreme importance to think that a non-bladed weapon would do much damage against his armored robes.

"Stand down!"

Both of the staves in their hands began to rattle as the coarse voice that had yelled at them grew in intensity as he rapidly approached.

The Archbishop bore down upon the acolytes with an intimidating glare. He immediately grabbed their weapons and thrust them back into each of their respective torsos and continued to admonish them.

"Are you both blind or mad?! Can't you see he belongs to our order?" Scolded Benedictus. "Or does he need to wear a sign around his neck to further convince you?"

"My apologies Archbishop!" The first pleaded.

"Forgive our ignorance!" The second begged. "We were only doing as instructed."

The Archbishop's mood began to lighten. He immediately turned his attention away from the acolytes and addressed his guest personally.

"My apologies Samuel," Benedictus spoke. He motioned for the priest to follow him. "Please, come this way. We have much to discuss."

"I hope your reading comprehension is rivaled only by your pension for theatrics," quipped Samuel as he pressed the scroll into the first's chest and proceeded to move between them following as instructed. The priest could almost hear their hearts dropping simultaneously as they peered into the contents of the parchment and realized just how grave of a mistake they had committed.

Samuel walked alongside the head of the Church of the Holy Light as they continued through the cathedral. One could almost hear a pin drop with the level of silence that filled this usually boisterous and eventful building. Quite a few things have changed since the priest had last stepped in here. After compiling a report of his deeds upon concluding his trek to Northrend, he hadn't found another reason to return to this place. Still, his curiosity beckoned and forced him to ask even if to only move past the previously built up tension.

"Are you expecting an invasion any time soon?" Samuel mockingly asked as they walked. "Security is a bit more stern than usual."

"You can thank Bishop Farthing for that," sighed the Archbishop. "I've given him the responsibility of training the new acolytes. Even though the war has ended he is insistent in instilling our young recruits to never keep your guard down."

"A fish rots from the head down," the priest muttered under his breath.

They approached the altar were the two priests looked down upon them. The Archbishop's office was the first door to the right but he appeared intent on stopping here first.

"Before we begin, I wanted to introduce you to my two newest disciples," said Benedictus. He motioned for them to come down and greet the priest.

The first to step down was a woman, perhaps around Samuel's own age if not a bit older. Her caramel colored skin was smooth but still rough around her auburn colored eyes. Short black hair that was darker than a moonless night that just barely grazed her shoulders accented the magnificently tall cowl behind her. This one's attire were certainly fitting of her looks. Her robes were deep silver lined with black and teal accents fitted with gems and ornate decorations. Fingers poked through the cloth gauntlets that revealed fingernails of a similar color to her hair.

"This is Priestess Justine Read," the Archbishop stated. "She one of the most gifted priests in our order. Her efforts to help cleanse the decay and corruption within Scholomance have helped neutralized the growing menace of the Cult of the Damned in the area as well as allowed our Argent brethren to establish a deeper foothold in the Western Plaguelands."

"It is a pleasure to meet you Samuel," Justine spoke offering only a short smile in response while extending her hand forward. "The Archbishop speaks highly of you."

The priest took her hand and shook it briefly.

"You two share a bit of similarities," continued Benedictus. "I have yet to see anyone rival your thirst for knowledge but Justine has certainly grown accustomed to burying her head in books when she's not on assignment."

"I have studied many of your reports as well," she commented. "Your notes on Ulduar were extremely vivid and descriptive. It almost felt as if I were standing beside you."

"Trust me," Samuel countered. "I would much rather relive that experience through parchment rather than in person."

Justine's smile widened though it appeared she was unsure on whether he was speaking in seriousness or in jest. The priest peered upon her for only a few short moments. She had an aura around her as if her expressions were only skin deep. Anything resembling a true emotion appeared to be buried beneath the deepest of shadows.

Finally, the second priest descended down the steps. His expression was a bit brighter which his warm chestnut colored hair complimented. It was a bit longer than Justine's but much better maintained and styled. He was younger and dressed in nearly opposing colors as his companion priest. The robes were rationally white with thin strips of gold along the edges which darkened to black just below the waist. Each spaulder of his armor depicted a solemn female whose eyes were covered in black cloth and face wrapped in chains. Teal gems adorned various clasps and buttons almost as if he were attempting to convey a sense of wealth more so than an intimidating presence.

"And this is one of our brightest and most promising priests within these walls," the Archbishop began with a bit more pride in his tone than the introduction prior. "Melchior Soames."

"So this is the famous Samuel Legend?" The young priest rhetorically asked.

As soon as he made it down the steps, Melchoir reached forward and wrapped the priest in a tight hug.

"I have been following your exploits since the beginning!" He cheered with a wide smile stretched upon his face. "It is a gracious and most humble honor to meet you."

Samuel cringed not knowing how to reach to such a bold introduction. The one thing he was sure of that he wasn't going to reciprocate in kind. Melchoir was a bit brash and overwhelming but he appeared to mean well. Those were the kind of people the priest dreaded to be around. Intentions and actions are often two separate beings. If one loses control of the other, only chaos thrives.

The young priest released Samuel from his grip and offered two final boisterous pats on the shoulder before taking a step back.

"Forgive me for being so forward," Melchoir beseeched. "I had spent so much time listening to stories and reading about your exploits that to see you here, standing before me is a bit overwhelming."

There must have been a tinge of anger left hanging on Samuel's expression for the young priest to act so defensively immediately after embracing him. At least this time, the priest welcomed it. It was better to keep one's distance than allow someone to remain close when their level of trust has not been established.

Samuel's expression lightened and he only nodded in response.

"A man of few words," smiled the young priest. "Nevertheless, he lets his actions do all the talking."

"Come now," the Archbishop beckoned. "Let us continue this discussion in my office."

They all did as the Church of the Holy Light's leader commanded. Benedictus' chambers were quite large and housed his own personal collection of books and trinkets. In the center was a finely carved wooden desk. It was sanded so meticulously that you could easily make out your expression as if staring into an oak colored mirror. There was so much gold within these walls alone that an opportunistic thief could become a lord overnight though not many would even consider robbing one of the most sacred places in the Eastern Kingdoms. However, Samuel may know of a one select creature that would at least dare to try.

"Please, have a seat everyone," offered Benedictus directing the priests to the trio of wooden seats before them. Not an ounce of cushioning separated their backsides from the hardened surface. The Archbishop may not have been keen on entertaining guests for very long.

Benedictus stepped around and took a seat upon his own chair which was shaped similar to that of a small throne. Pockets of red velvet cloth provided comfort and support as the golden headrest and ensuing decorations throughout showcased its more regal presence.

"Shut the door Melchior," the Archbishop commanded.

"Yes sir," replied the young priest with an unnecessary amount of vigor.

The level of importance initially offered by the parchment alone increased tenfold as soon as the door closed. Whatever Benedictus was about to say, it was only to be heard by these three individuals alone. Not even another Bishop or member of his internal council was privileged to be in attendance.

"It's been a year since we last spoke Samuel," the Archbishop casually opened. "How have you been?"

"Fine," the priest quickly replied.

Samuel was not one for small talk but he could sense there was an unspoken tension between them. The last time they were together, it was the day of Renault Legend's funeral. Benedictus had left the church and attended out of respect for both the priest and his father. The Archbishop was a part of the council in which Renault sat and though they spoke on many of occasions about various things, Benedictus had only a few words of comfort to offer his son and daughter.

"You returned from Northrend nearly two years ago," added the Archbishop. "Have you given adventuring altogether or did the free-spirited life not agree with you?"

The priest dejectedly shook his head.

"I have not done any adventuring since coming home I'm afraid," Samuel answered. "Though, I cannot say it was not a rewarding experience."

There wasn't much else to dsciuss on the matter. The priest hoped his answer was suitable enough to quell any further probing yet still remaining vague as to not arouse any of his own internal insights from surfacing. Samuel had taken it as a great learning experience and decided to leave pleasantly at that.

"I see," Benedictus nodded. "Actually, that is why I called you here today Samuel."

The priest's expression perked up as he began to listen intently to what the Church's leader was about to say next.

"Your exploits, accomplishments, and accolades have not gone unnoticed," the Archbishop proudly commenced. "It is not often that someone rises through our ranks so veritably quickly. You have become the topic of great discussion within our organization Samuel."

Hearing such praise coming straight from Benedictus was rather unexpected. The priest had initially anticipated that his two-year hiatus had drawn ire from some of the higher-ranking officials. Now it seemed like he was being commended despite a notable absence from active service. Samuel didn't let the sudden shift in mood change his demeanor and continued listening with great interest.

"Speaking of which, it is no secret that the Church has experienced its fair share of praise as well. Though the threat of the Scourge may be silenced, some of our leaders feel that we need to use these times of peace to encourage those to walk closer towards the Light instead of clamoring for it at their most desperate times."

The Archbishop made a good point. Most civilians always asked for assistance when they were too powerless or weak willed to seize it for themselves. However, what Benedictus was insinuating was not that the Church gathered all of the lost little lambs who no longer sought guidance out of fear. It was no secret that there were some monetary intentions buried within. With less people attending church, that would mean less money being donated through tithes and offerings and after amassing such an incredible army to fight the war in Northrend, their upkeep has severely increased as did their expenses. The Archbishop desired to keep his military influence strong but for reasons Samuel was still waiting to be rationalized.

"Our council held a meeting a few days ago," stated Benedictus. "The bishops and myself both feel the Church is in desperate need of some young blood within our leadership."

Samuel senses where this conversation was going and steeled his mind from running rampant with any other thoughts that attempted to detract from this moment.

"After some careful deliberation, we've come to the conclusion that what we need is to appoint a new bishop. Someone who can inspire both the faithful and the faithless into returning once more into these walls and provide some new insight into a few tired old minds."

Though Benedictus was not one to normally speak in jest, his works were both powerful and reassuring. The work of a bishop was not one taken lightly. They are amongst the most powerful members of the Church of the Holy Light, deciding how to shape the faith to the masses of the Eastern Kingdoms and beyond. Becoming a bishop would put you directly on the council with The Archbishop himself and seemingly deciding on the fate of hundreds of thousands on a daily basis. That was not a responsibility Samuel had initially wished to attain but something told him it was about to be thrust upon him.

"When it came to the topic of succession," the Archbishop continued. "Your name was at the top of each of their lists."

The priest took a deep breath. Though he had already calculated this conclusion moments ago, the words still weighed heavily upon him when spoken out loud. Still, he couldn't help but be a little humble about it. Most bishops in the order were twice his age. To them, he would appear to be nothing more than a child.

"I am honored Archbishop," opened Samuel. He took another long breath and continued. "However, I am curious as to the council's thought process. While I am not questioning their wisdom, I am interested as to how I, amongst all other notable candidates within the Church, became their first choice?"

This wasn't an act of humility the priest was portraying. He was attempting to probe for more information. A promotion such as this doesn't come lightly. Which he was certainly in the running against his peers, Samuel was curious to find out what put him above all else.

"Your modesty is quite the surprise," Benedictus opposed. "I must say I, as well as some members of our council, expected this to be a brief conversation with you accepting or declining the moment the offer was even mentioned."

The bishops weren't entirely wrong on that matter. Had Benedictus given him this offer in any other fashion, the priest would have rejected it coldly. However, something about the way it was being presented to him piqued his interested. The current evidence suggests that this offer wasn't going to come easy. Much like the Samuel himself, the Archbishop was probing him for information as well.

"As much as I could sit here and go on about your achievements and accomplishments," said Benedictus. "Believe me, we did enough of it in our meeting. Your reputation certainly precedes you and there are plenty of notable merits that would endear you to all citizens of Stormwind and members of the Alliance even."

The Archbishop was not wrong in that regards. Samuel lived as both a noble and an adventurer. He has spent days entrenched on the battlefront as well as engaged in political discussions with some of the chief decision makers of their kingdom. The priest may have been one of the most well-rounded candidates for this position the Church has ever seen.

"Simply put Samuel," the Archbishop implored. "We feel that you would be an inspiration amongst our ranks, both externally and internally."

While it wasn't an outright admission of his intentions, the priest could easily read between the lines. Samuel wanted to at least get that part of the discussion cemented before beginning his own exposition of the facts and deciphering just what kind of career move this would mean to him. The first of which was to deal with the two variables in the room.

"Forgive me," started Samuel knowing full well that he was about to say something that could be potentially taken as offensive. "But if you wish to bestow this honor upon me, then why are Justine and Melchior even present for this discussion?"

The Archbishop let out a disapproving sigh which echoed in the confines of his chamber with the resonance of a grunt.

"Priestess Justine may not be as decorated as you are Samuel," answered Benedictus. "But she is one of the most respected members of the Church and was close behind you for this recommendation. Should you rescind this offer, she will be taking your place."

The priest caught a brief glimpse out of the corner of eye of Justine. She too looked upon him sternly and did not flinch despite being directly told she was second best among them. Samuel was not easy to get along with, even that much was self-evident but the fact that she was able to listen intently to such a conversation without conveying any ill emotions spoke highly of her resolve. Perhaps the bishops made a good second choice after all. All that was left was the third.

"And Melchior?" The priest posed. "Am I wrong to assume he's third in line? Or is he merely here to for the experience of it all?"

Samuel may have been painting this ordeal in a humorous light but he was still somewhat serious regarding his query. Putting someone like Melchior in the position of bishop would have looked to be nothing more than a stunt pulled by the Church to rouse interest. People would be talking about the decision certainly but none of it would have been positive.

"Melchior has a promising future but he still has much to learn," replied the Archbishop. "I am having him prepare to accompany either you or Justine on the special assignment we have set out in order to prove your worthiness."

"Assignment?" The priest couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Based on our discussion, I would have thought the decision was all but made. I can certainly understand sending Justine on this task but as for me, what else is there to prove?"

Benedictus sighed heavily in response to his subordinate's brash yet oddly indisputable remark.

"Your reputation does precede you Samuel," the Archbishop begrudgingly started. "Most of the members of my council were quite adamant in your endorsement as well."

A sullen air settled into the chamber. Benedictus' expression darkened as cast a serious gaze upon the Legend heir.

"Frankly Samuel, the Bishops can recommend anything to me for as long as they wish but the ultimate decision starts and ends with me," the Archbishop rebuked. "While I am well aware of your prowess and experience, in order to sit amongst my council, you need to go above and beyond anything even they themselves have achieved in order to sit at our table."

The priest's brow furrowed. His curiosity was beginning to spike. Benedictus certainly had his heart in the right place. An exceptionally challenging mission would endear him to the other bishops and allow him to stand beside him without fear of them speaking ill behind his back of about his age and inexperience. Though even fewer of them have lived through some of Samuel's own harrowing endeavors, this potential new assignment was already piquing his great interest.

"Very well," nodded the priest. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

A small smile curled upon the Archbishop's lips. It faded nearly as quickly as it came.

"Something I am sure that will satiate your never-ending thirst for knowledge," stated Benedictus. "Are you familiar with a former priestess of our Church by the name of Natalie Seline?"

"Vaguely," Samuel answered. "She was a former bishop during the First and Second wars who mysteriously vanished, presumed dead as well as those that followed her. Of course, this is all stories I have heard second hand. There are no actual records of her efforts or existence within the great library."

"That is because all of her writings and documents have been destroyed," the Archbishop added.

"What?" The curious priest leaned forward ever so slightly from his chair and leered at his superior with great interest. "Who would do such a thing?"

"That would be our allies, the Kirin Tor," Benedictus replied. "They spent years combing the lands of the Eastern Kingdoms and scoured her entire existence from the pages of our history in order to spare the world from learning of her discovery."

Samuel's interest exploded nearly tenfold. He couldn't even begin to fathom the possibilities that awaited him. His overwhelming sense of curiosity was starting to get the better of him and it took much of the priest's resolve from expressing it physically. However, he couldn't help but ask the obvious question.

"And," he carefully posed. "What did this former bishop find?"

"A power unbeknownst to anyone within these very walls," the Archbishop grimly replied. "It is a place where the Light may never shine and yet, our very acolytes and disciples have the potential to tap into this realm and utilize this dark energy to do their very bidding."

Blood began to burn with Samuel's veins. His curiosity had swollen into full blown investment into the topic at hand. Dozens of theories began to flood his thoughts. Thankfully, years of analytical research had allowed the priest to quickly and carefully piece through these findings and select the most pertinent bits of information.

"I know of what you speak of," Samuel responded. "Forsaken priests have been suspected of wielding such an accursed power as you have described. It was initially theorized by myself and others that the Light would not properly work within the hands of the undead and this was merely their wretched way of attempting to wield it."

The priest gently pressed his glasses forward to keep them from slipping down the rest of his nose before finishing.

"In their own barbaric manner of course."

"Allegedly, the Forsaken had uncovered some of Bishop Seline's hidden documents," Benedictus continued. "We believe the forming of the Cult of the Forgotten Shadows was due largely in part to some of her forgotten texts. Be that as it may, this is something we've all been putting off for a very long time. A golden opportunity has presented itself. We can no longer remain ignorant to the growing threat."

There was a thick aura of seriousness in the Archbishop's words. Samuel could easily sense a bit of trepidation brewing with his own conscious. It had become an official declaration from the Church of the Holy Light that its followers and disciples were to outright avoid confrontations or even trading of knowledge with members of that cult. Now it would appear Benedictus has something else in store for them; something the priest himself may not live to regret his continued pursuit of this matter.

"And so," the priest sighed while falling back into his chair. "What would you have me do?"

The Archbishop took a deep breath. He placed his elbows upon his desk and intertwined his fingers masking half of his expression outright.

"Information is the key to any successful campaign," Benedictus declared. "And knowledge is power."

Samuel almost wanted to laugh at that remark. It was as if the Archbishop was vaguely attempting to goad him into accepting this outright. The priest would not be so easily convinced. He listened very carefully as Benedictus continued.

"We cannot forgive the Kirin Tor for what they have done but we cannot blame them either. Bishop's Seline's research may be the key to explaining the source of this hideous power wielded by the Cult of the Forgotten Shadows. Perhaps she was too overzealous but I believe there is something within our own ranks that is strong enough to finish what she has started."

The priest's heart lifted. This assignment had nearly everything one could hope for and catered to all of Samuel's interests. It was almost too good to be true.

"That is," the Archbishop finished with an unflinching gaze. "If you are up for the challenge Samuel."

Those unnecessary words had already cemented what Samuel had affirmed in his mind moments ago.


	3. Chapter 2

_Legend Keep_

 _Stormwind City_

"They wish to make you a Bishop?"

Samuel stood upon one of the highest steps of the wooden ladder in the study digging through various books along the upper shelf. He meticulously scoured through each of the titles hoping to find one of relevance while not paying much mind to his twin sister's prattling below. Zariyana already appeared to be in a foul mood earlier this morning. The recent news the priest brought home continued to sour the already spoiled milk.

"That appears to be their intention," Samuel answered while pulling a grey tome from the shelf and verifying the author's name on the inside cover. He quickly pushed the book back into its place and continued his search. "Though, perhaps I am on a fool's errand."

If he cared to pass a glace down below, Samuel would have found a thick layer of disdain glazed upon his sister's expression.

"And what about me?" Zariyana begrudgingly sneered. "Was my name not even on the breath of those old leches and scoundrels?"

Samuel let out of brief sigh. He slid the ladder along its wooden wheels to the next section of the bookcase and continued searching.

"Perhaps if your mind was not lost in the throws of adventuring and instead, kept up with your weekly reports as instructed, then you would have been sitting beside me instead of Priestess Justine."

The female Legend twin scoffed in defiance.

"Who would want to join those haggard tyrants anyhow?" She defended. "Spending my days as a recluse within those infuriatingly white walls? Lecturing youths and writing sermons?"

There was a small tinge of contempt clouding the priest's thoughts. His sister definitely shared in nearly all of his distinguished accomplishments. While she was quite disciplined as a priest, her mind tended to wander listlessly as if avoiding the simplest path just because everyone else had followed it. It was something her tongue never failed to mention either. The male Legend twin was somewhat envious of her unchained spirit.

The truth was, Zariyana was much more naturally gifted in the art of wielding the Light. Samuel had to spend nearly twice as long in both study and practice in order to achieve her level of skill when they were first learning the craft. However, the priest's early dedication proved to be rewarding in its own right. Samuel learned how wield the Light in much more complex and intricate ways. He had even developed a few of his own incantations that none of his peers could ever master due the complexity and discipline involved which is what kept them out of normal practice; not that the priest minded in the slightest.

"Father never took the mantel," remarked his twin. "Is that why you are doing this? To succeed where he did not."

"If you recall," Samuel countered. "He turned down the offer. Becoming ingrained in the Church was not something he specifically cared for."

Though he studied as a priest in his youth, Renault was much more interested in maintaining order. He carried out his holy duties for a time but soon grew weary of the theatrics, as he would call it, and simplified the workings and teachings to appeal to the masses rather than the select few that sought it out. This simple strategy endeared him within the populace and made the former Lord of their house one of the most well respected and revered members of the House of Nobles.

"Many of our ancestors were Bishops as well," added Samuel. "It would be a worthy title for succession of this house."

"Do you truly believe that?" His sister countered. "Or are you merely attempting to convince yourself."

For the first time since this discussion began, the priest leered down upon his sister. His glasses slowly began to slide down his nose but his expression remained unchanged.

"We have known each longer for the entire length of our lives," he began while pushing back the frames with a quick tap of his middle finger. "When have I ever needed to reassure myself through mere words alone?"

The priest turned towards the shelves once more and continued his search not bothering to even gauge Zariyana's reaction. His hands glossed over a few journals before finally landing upon a thin one bound with black leather. There was no title on the spine but it bore a distinctive mark embossed in gold near the bottom of a simple hammer and pick crossed over one another. Upon opening the cover, Samuel was pleased to find his first lead in this initial quest for knowledge already in his grasp.

"So, how much time did the Archbishop afford you for this mission?" Zariyana curiously questioned. Her tone had shifted to one of morbid interest. "Surely he believes so much in the great Samuel Legend to ensure this be completed in a timely and efficient manner."

The priest knew that when his sister started slewing backhanded compliments her anger was reaching its zenith. There wasn't much he could do to calm the eventual storm. He took a deep breath and simply began preparing to endure it.

"I was told to take as much time as I needed," answered Samuel while descending the ladder with the book firmly entrenched in his grip. "The truth of the matter is, everyone in the order has no idea what I could be up against. I may spend months, perhaps even years and still reach no farther than my predecessor."

With his feet placed firmly back upon the solid ground, Samuel walked towards the desk near the back of the room. He practically ignored his sister's presence despite her thick aura of derision. Fortunately, whenever the priest found something of great interest, he was easily able to ignore the distractions of the outside world and focus on the more important matters standing before him.

"So why even bother to –"

Zariyana fell silent upon seeing her brother take a seat at the desk and began pouring through the contents of black tome. Despite his great desire to begin drinking all of the knowledge within, Samuel couldn't help sense a rise of uncomfortableness in the air. He pulled his eyes from the book and shot a quick glance upon his sister. The priest could practically see her hear dropping in that very moment.

"What is it?" Inquired Samuel.

Though they were twins, Zariyana's eyes looked nothing like his at this moment. She did not appear to be looking into a mirror but rather, at something much more dire.

"It's nothing," his sister immediately defended. Her voice nearly cracked with every pushed breath. "It's just, you remind –" Zariyana immediately shook her head, unable to even continue that thought. "Never mind."

The priest shrugged with no desire to probe to her somewhat distressing answer even further. He continued to read the documents carefully. A breadth of knowledge lied within these pages and Samuel was poised to find something of value to aid in his quest.

"What book is that?" She inquisitively spoke. Her tone had lifted and sounded genuinely interested. Zairyana approached her brother and stood beside him as he traced over the text.

"A collection of journal entries," answered the priest. "From members of the Explorers' League. Although it wasn't specifically titled, this book does bear their crest."

"Why would that be of any relevance to your assignment?"

She was right to question Samuel's current line of logic. The Explorers' League was a collective of travelers, spelunkers, and researchers dedicated to uncovering the origins of the dwarven race. Though there are some dwarves that are practicing priests, their efforts aren't specifically focused towards the Light and those that oppose it.

"A few of their members encountered some remnants of the Cult of the Forgotten Shadows while attempting to secure a foothold in Alterac Valley," the priest opened. "I initially reasoned that sharing a border with Tirisfal Glades would potentially warrant an encounter or two from the Undercity."

Samuel turned the page to a remarkably detailed parchment that caught his immediate attention.

"It appears as though I was right."

The priest tore the contents with feverish interest. Every word before him seemingly jumped from the confines of the parchment and exploded into a rich story playing out before his very eyes. The author's writings in previous documents appeared to be a bit aloof and vague at times. However, this section was especially graphic, almost as if the writer did not want to forget a single moment of this encounter.

"This particular document explains their battle in detail," said the priest. "Quite vividly I would say. Look at how he describes the spells cast from their Forsaken adversary."

Samuel pointed directly at the quote in question and allowed his sister to read it aloud.

" _My blood began burning within my veins yet rendered my flesh untouched?_ " Zariyana read with mild disgust dripping from her tongue.

" _A maddening voice that ignored my ears entirely and unrelentingly screamed into the confines mind_ ," the priest added.

"What level of sorcery is this?" His sister chillingly asked. "Surely the Light could not conjure up such fearsome abilities."

Samuel shook his head.

"I am unsure," he replied while reaching for the next page to continue the entry. "The author describes his attire as decayed robes with rotting golden sigils sewn throughout. It is evidence of a priest's attire but – "

The priest's words were immediately silence upon revealing crude drawing behind the previous page. It vaguely shows the Forsaken adversary in question, covered in tattered robes with bits of her tainted flesh and bone peaking throughout. The staff in her hand was especially alarming. It featured a large cross at the top with a thick circle surrounding very similar to the weapons acolytes receive upon receiving their first promotion.

"A former priest of Lordaeron?"

"Perhaps," answered Samuel. "The evidence would suggest such but take a look at this."

His finger fell underneath of the Forsaken's stance depicted in this drawing and slowly began circling around it. The author may have attempted to draw the creature's shadow but some of the details were off. Unless they were standing on another planet with three suns shining above, there was no way this was normal.

"What are those?" The priest initially asked. He continued to draw along the sides of the trio of thick, squiggly lines that surrounded the Forsaken priest.

"They look as if they were legs rising from the ground," she answered.

"Not legs," the priest forebodingly stated. His mind froze at the sudden realization and reached out to his sister for a final verification. "What do they remind you of?"

Zariyana's lips parted in a vague attempt to answer but no words escaped her breath, only a faint gasp. As soon as Samuel spoke the words, the image became instantly clear. They had seen something like this in their adventures past. The only creature on the planet with appendages like those did not belong to a mortal race of Azeroth. These hideous, flailing limbs marred by shadows were nearly identical to those menacingly attached to an Old God.

"Tentacles," his sister huffed. "How is that possible?"

The priest meekly responded by shaking his head.

"I -," Samuel began, tripping over his own thoughts. "I have no idea."

"What else does it say?" Zariyana eagerly posed. "

"Unfortunately, it appears this where his assessment ends," replied the priest. "The remaining pages are vague and hastily written. Some of the words begin trailing off from the common tongue into gibberish."

The final pages of the tome were filled with heavy scratches of ink and indecipherable ramblings. Samuel even found bits of feather and quill stuck to some of the markings. The author must have furiously attempted to write a coherent thought found no rational way of doing so after the battle with the Forsaken.

"It's like a demon had entered his very mind and his body was either unwilling or unable to exercise it."

"Could you perhaps contact the author?" His sister posed. "Or maybe his associates?"

"Based on the evidence here," Samuel began while closing the book. "It would be safe to assume this poor fellow perished not too long after escaping. This tome itself was found in a lot of old books at a collector's auction. Perhaps the Explorers' League was unable to make any sense of their member's final moments and sought to dispose of it since it had no merit towards their primary goals. The cover and bindings appear to be recently made and the dates within occur only two years after the end of the Third War."

The priest stood up and seized the tome once more. He began walking towards the ladder and prepared to place the book back upon the shelf from whence it came.

"So," Zariyana quaintly spoke. "Where does this leave you know?"

"Unfortunately," sighed the priest. "I cannot go off this single lead alone. I will need to further confirm these findings from additional sources before proceeding. Needless to say, it is a very important clue on revealing my next available options."

"Wait a moment," Zariyana pleaded. "You're not thinking of going back there, are you?"

That was a very important question indeed. It was within the confines of the Titan-forged city of Ulduar where Samuel and his sister encountered the Old God known as Yogg-Saron. The battle that took place was harrowing and nearly took the lives of ten mortals that day. Unfortunately, the priest remembers little of the actual encounter as he had been violently rendered unconscious after a taking a vicious blow from the creature's maddening appendage.

While returning to Northrend was one of the best options it wasn't the easiest either. There are few ships willing to take that trek again now that the campaign was over. Even with the noble's vast wealth, it could be weeks, if not months before finding a willing crew to make that journey. Though he had plenty of time granted to him by Archbishop Benedictus, wasting that much time just to confirm a theory was not in Samuel's best interests. If he was going to find conclusive evidence to support this current hunch, perhaps it was on another continent that was a bit more accessible than the other.

The priest pieced together as much of the story as he could from the ensuing celebration that took place after departing Ulduar. Sadly, he could not trust most of them to accurately describe the entire experience as everyone had their own perspective of what transpired and most of which did little to paint a clear picture as to truly occurred. Samuel deeply regretted being one of the few to fall during their battle but was more thankful to escape with his life above all else.

However, one of their associates at the time described a sudden personality shift from another during the initial encounter with Yogg-Saron akin to what was described within the previously read pages. It had been quite some time since they last spoke but right now, it was the biggest lead the priest could go on to confirm his suspicions.

"No," the priest answered as he slid the book onto the shelf high above and began his descent down once more. "Not Ulduar."

Samuel returned to the desk and retrieved a fresh roll of parchment from one of the lower drawers. Then, he placed a bowl of hardened wax over a nearby candle and retrieved the official Legend House seal from the top drawer. He procured a vial of ink and a quill and began scribing one of two messages. The first of which would be sent to the Cathedral of Light to the Archbishop himself. If Benedictus was determined to see that one of their disciples accompanied the priest then he best give him plenty of time to prepare for their journey. This wasn't an outright declaration but more of a letter of intent. Samuel still had to further authenticate his initial findings but that would hopefully be taken care of with a simple conversation. Where they would go from there was on the same continent but in an entirely different part of the hemisphere.

There was another major campaign against an Old God in Kalimdor. The Second War of the Shifting Sands was a brutal and bloody campaign that pit the forces of Azeroth against the mighty Qiraji army led by the dreaded Old God C'Thun. Now the entire temple laid in ruins which afforded the priest and his companions an ample opportunity to explore and confirm his newfound theory.

The second letter would be sent to the Explorers' League. Samuel rationalized that since the first clue found was scribed by one of their own members then perhaps they too could assist with his journey. Of course, the priest could opt to hire some adventurers or even mercenaries to accompany him but an endeavor such as this did not need a menacing hand so much as it required an inquisitive mind. It also helped that he had been previously introduced to their leader, Brann Bronzebeard, and that particular dwarf with a nose for trouble would be more keen in taking a request from a known acquaintance than a stranger.

Samuel rolled both parchments tightly and placed the bronze stamp into the pool of melted wax nearby and sealed the documents with the official marking of his house. He stood up taking both letters in his hand and began heading for the exit.

"If not Ulduar," started Zariyana. "Then, where will you be going?"

The priest did not initially want to answer as he was running short on time as is. However, word of their conversation must have spread to nearby servants who had summoned their mother, Lady Alyssandra Legend stood in the doorway once more in a scene very reminiscent of one that occurred earlier this morning.

"Samuel," she meekly began. Like their encounter prior, his mother had difficulty maintaining eye contact with him.

"I'm leaving for Kalimdor," he quickly answered not wanting to placate this irritating charade for any longer than necessary. "Boats on the harbor leave daily at sunset which leaves me only a few moments to prepare for my trip."

The priest's response did not appear to sit well with his mother. A faint flicker of anxiety graced the lenses of her deep hazel eyes.

"How," she pleaded. "How long will you be gone?"

"I do not know," replied Samuel. He forced his tone to a softer level if not to simply spare her any further apprehension. "Perhaps a few weeks. Maybe as long as a month or two. I cannot say for certain."

"But," Alyssandra interrupted. "What of what we discussed prior? Invitations have already been sent our regarding the arrangement. It would be ill-mannered to force them to wait for such a long –"

"I am not concerned with that right now," the priest sharply stated. His blood began to warm once more for reasons he could not currently comprehend but his instincts begged him to be rid of this conversation and move forward towards his destined journey. "Must you –"

"Samuel!" His mother sharply called. "This is not a matter that you can simply ignore. The House of Nobles may revoke our seat if you delay this any further."

"Is that what this is all about?" Samuel countered. His tone rose in force as he did not shy away from the growing intensity of this argument. "Protecting our House? Preserving our legacy?"

"No!" Alyssandra fired back. "I do not care about _his_ name. I care about –"

"Mother! Samuel!" Interrupted Zariyana. She immediately stood in between them with a deep sense of concern plastered upon her expression. "Stop this incessive arguing at once."

The priest started to calm down. He immediately began reminiscing of the last time they were involved in a heated argument. It had been well over a year since any of them had raised their voices in such a fashion. Continuing this discussion as is would not bode well for either side. However, something nagged at Samuel's conscious that foolishly begged for him to press the issue further.

There was a secret hidden between his mother's words. She was being uncharacteristically incessant about arranging a marriage, more so than he had originally anticipated. For someone Alyssandra appeared to merely tolerate instead of love, she seemed to deeply care about fulfilling their father's last wish above all else. Renault lies buried underneath six feet of soil and yet, none of them could seem to escape his grasp.

Samuel placated the thought of pursuing it for a moment before allowing logic to settle and forcing the matter aside for now. His mind could only handle a single mystery at a time and currently, only one of them was of enough concern to follow at the present.

"I have no interest in discussing this any further."

It was futile to continue. Neither party would walk away happy no matter how long they spent. Samuel desired to face the first challenge presented to him by the Archbishop.

"Goodbye mother."

The priest casually moved passed his mother and sister not even giving them a final glimpse before disappearing out of the chamber. It would take some time to pack all of his necessary trinkets and equipment for the journey. Thankfully, he still kept most of the required assets stored in a chest from when he was an adventurer. The journey had barely even started and already Samuel felt like he was lagging behind. What he needed now was a bit of encouragement and some positive reinforcement. He hoped to gain that very soon while visiting an old friend.


	4. Chapter 3

_The Raynewood Orphanage_

 _Ashenvale_

Samuel stepped off the carriage with his large backpack and alchemist's kit in tow. He gave the driver a knowing nod before departing up the northern road. After a quick crack of the carriage owner's whip, the horses let out a boisterous whinny as they turned around and headed back south towards Raynewood Retreat.

The priest walked alongside the large plateau filled bright green grass and astounding foliage the likes of which is rarely seen in the Eastern Kingdoms and yet here, appears as common as the dirt on the ground. He had been traveling for a week through some less than desirable lands but thankfully found this setting much more pleasant. Even the air tasted different. It was lighter and much sweeter than the drab atmosphere of the major capital cities. It may have been Samuel's first time in this area of Kalimdor and he already started to regret not visiting this place much earlier.

A small cottage was just in view at the base of the rise surrounded by a few larger buildings of similar design. Each structure featured a solid oak construction resembling the very trees that surrounded this land as well as a distinctive purple roof that mirrored the stunning leaves that soared high above.

The sign just ahead confirmed the priest had arrived at his intended destination. However, something was a bit off. He could not help but think this place was drastically underwhelming when initial described to him. Samuel was certain there was only one building that was talked about but in the years that followed, there appears to have been a great expansion. The entire area looks as if it were a small village in and of itself complete with its own school, dormitory, and even a church as the tall branch protruding from the building to the west was grossly similar to a steeple of sorts.

Dozens of children of all ages and races were happily playing amongst themselves in the courtyard. The priest could see their bright young smiles even from where he walked. It was as if they didn't have a care in this world and the loss of their parents was merely an afterthought in an otherwise joyful existence.

One night elf child caught wind of the priest's approach as he reached the crest of the road towards the orphanage entrance. She immediately shouted something in her native tongue and all of the other orphans glanced at the foreigner encroaching in their territory and immediately darted away. They scattered quickly and disappeared into the surrounding structures almost as quickly as Samuel could blink.

The priest slowed his approach. He continued up the path with a mild touch of trepidation. Samuel was not sure why the children were so easily startled as there were a number of humans amongst them but then again, perhaps they had never seen one wearing battle-regalia and carrying a large bag strapped to his back, a pristine wooden case in one hand, and his sacred tome sitting aloft upon his waist under his left arm. Even his glasses didn't soften the priest's demeanor as they normally would. Unfortunately, these were not nobles like he normally surrounded himself with; they were just children.

A small cloud of black smoke slowly poured out of the cottage's window. Samuel's gaze deepened as his lungs were soon filled with the stench of charred wood and another powerful scent he did not instantly recognize. Perhaps a rogue vegetable fell into the fire pit instead of the fire pot as it were.

The priest took a deep breath as he approached the door. It had been over two years since they've last spoken to each other. Samuel's heart rate increased. With any other person or any other time this would have been a routine visit. He sulked before the sturdy wooden door as the back of his hand was just inches aware from its hardened exterior. The priest paused for a final moment, using the middle finger to press his glasses back into place one last time before giving the door three hearty knocks.

There was a soft rustling coming from within. The fluttering within his chest would not cease. He could not logically fathom anything to say once the door opened and hope the words would find their way to his tongue just as the wood before him started to creak.

The door parted and immediately revealed what could be easily described as an angelic creature standing underneath its frame. She was tall will illustrious violet colored skin draped in a simple blue dress. The strands of her amethyst hair shined magnificently which radiated like priceless jewels underneath the clear blue sky. The priest gulped quietly as the piercing silver gaze of Narula Dawngrove stared deeply back into his humble golden eyes.

"Samuel?"

"Greetings Narula."

Thankfully, his demeanor steeled and the priest was able to regain his composure. He spoke with confidence and poise. They had parted ways in what seemed like ages ago and yet, as Samuel stood before the night elf, it was as if not a single day had passed. She was just as elegant and tranquil as he remembered her. Though, she was a slight bulkier than he recalled. It could simply be explained by the thinness of her leather armor or perhaps being a bit out of practice now that Narula was no longer adventuring.

"How have you –"

The night elf silenced him outright as she rushed forward and wrapped him it a tight and powerful hug. While this one was just as surprising as the one received prior from the young priest Melchior, Samuel was much more willing to accept this embrace. He carefully wrapped his free hand across Narula's back and returned a gentle squeeze.

"It is wonderful to see you again," she enthusiastically stated. The night elf slowly pulled herself away and looked deeply at Samuel with a gentle smile gracing her thin lavender lips. "Your presence has been truly missed."

"As has yours," the priest complimented. "Forgive me for taking so long to visit. It was never my intention to dolly for so long. Time appears to slip more quickly when you are not paying attention to it."

Narula softly shook her head while still retaining a bright expression.

"We all have our own responsibilities to attend to," the night elf replied. Her smile widened briefly before a curious expression graced her graceful face. "What brings you all the way out here to Ashenvale Samuel?"

"Actually," began the priest. "I am here to see you. I was hoping to borrow a few moments of your time for some research I am conducting."

"Please," Narula smiled as she stepped aside and allowed her old companion space to enter. "You are more than welcome in our home."

The priest nodded and graciously stepped inside the cottage. It was a simple home devoid of regal decorations of fancy dressings. The kitchen was large but still quaint with a small table nearby. A kettle boiled atop a small fire near the window where a few unique looking plants bathed in the warm sunlight. While it may have been enough to feed a few hungry mouths, it would take a miracle worker to quell the appetites of all the children Samuel caught running around earlier. The living room had a modest rug lying before an open fire where a large black cauldron rested. Trails of dissipating smoke emanated just below into the window he initially spotted.

"Please forgive the mess," she pled while catching the priest's wandering eyes. "I was in the middle of preparing lunch when the children startled me."

"It is of no consequence, I assure you," the priest calmly said. "I am as much to blame as they are. Had I known my presence would have been met with such apprehension, I would have sent a letter prior."

The night elf calmly shook her head. She must have been extra precautious. It's not every day that a noble would step foot into her home. This was certainly not a place for entertaining wealthy and regal families though some of the more wretched of their lot didn't mind abandoning their bastard kin in such places. Narula had created a remarkable establishment with the meager tools she had at her disposal. She had nothing to be ashamed of. Anyone would be proud of what she has accomplished.

"Here," the night elf opened while sliding back a wooden chair from the table. "Please have a seat."

"Thank you," Samuel nodded while placing his belongings down and sitting as instructed. The only possession that didn't grace the ground was his tome which he still kept strapped over his shoulder. It continued to cling at his hip as he fell back into the chair and took a solemn breath.

"Would you like some tea?" Offered the night elf while removing the whistling kettle from the fire. "I was preparing one for myself before you arrived."

"Yes, thank you."

Narula pull two small ceramic cups from the shelfs above the and placed them on the counter. She reached forward and plucked several leaves from the small plant sitting on the right side of the window and began crushing them in a small stone bowl. They were curiously colored that began with a very light lime tint near the stem but seemingly shimmered all the way down to a dark mossy finish at the tip. It was a beautiful specimen unlike the one in the center. The leaves were deep crimson near the bottom like the start of a roaring fire but as the branches grew taller, the color began drab and decayed with the top-most petals were brown and nearly lifeless despite still being connected to the plant. Though he was not opposed to trying new things, the priest was thankful she chose the more delightful looking plant.

The night elf placed the crushed leaves into each cup and sprinkled a bit of sugar before pouring the hot water inside. She gave them a gentle stir and then brought them to the table, placing the still steaming broth before Samuel. The instant its soothing aroma hit his nostrils it was as if the weight of the world melted off his shoulders. Whatever powerful concoction this was must be a home-brewed specialty. Narula's talent as a druid appeared to extend well beyond combat applications.

"It smells wonderful," the priest acknowledged while taking the cup in hand. He brought the hot liquid to his lips and sipped upon the hazy green fluid carefully. The second it graced his tongue he was immediately welcomed with a mildly bitter yet surprisingly smooth beverage that settled any remaining nerves that stood defiantly at attention. "Delicious as well."

"I am glad you enjoy it," smiled the night elf. She took a seat across from the priest and took a gentle drink from her own cup.

A peaceful breeze wafted between them through the open window. Now that the smoke had dissipated, it was beginning to become more comfortable save for the remnants of that odd smell. The tea certainly aided in masking it further and after a few moments, it was as if it were never there.

"What may I help you with?"

The priest took a deep breath. He knew exactly why he was here but for some reason, couldn't bring himself to broach the topic. It was difficult to ask such a question outright. Unfortunately, Samuel was no expert on small talk either. There were still many things he wanted to ask to potentially preface her mood into what he truly desired to learn. None of them were of particular interest but the only one he seemingly desired to know above any other was why she chose to be absent at the funeral. No matter how much his curiosity begged him to problem, the priest quelled the irrational thought and decided to tackle the subject head on and avoid any undesired uncomfortableness.

"I have been tasked by the leader of our organization to research a peculiar phenomenon within our order," explained Samuel. He briefly went over the details of his assignment, not wanting to bore her with the unneeded particulars. "Through my own personal findings, I discovered a member of the Explorers' League documented his encounter with an alleged member of the Cult of the Forgotten Shadows quite vividly. The afflictions his adversary caused were unlike anything the church has documented."

Narual continued to listen intently. Though the warmness of her expression had fallen, she didn't appear to be anything but attentive.

"The author included a depiction of his opponent in the journal who appeared to be sprouting tentacles amongst the very shadows cast from his being."

"Tentacles?" The night elf curiously inquired. She appeared a bit confused at first glance but there was a small flicker that gleamed beyond her pulsing silver lenses that was about to pinpoint where the priest was headed. "Are you referring to –"

The priest nodded and took and other quick sip of tea before continuing.

"During our battle against Yogg-Saron, I remember you falling ill and collapsing upon your knees. I am curious to know if your symptoms were similar to or even match those that the author described of his own suffering."

Samuel took another calming breath before stating his true purpose for being here today. He reached down and procured his tome and placed it on the table beside him. He then reached into his backpack and retried a vial of ink and a quill. The priest opened the book to the first blank page he could find next to a series of notes he had already compiled on the subject.

"Forgive me for asking you to dredge up such memories. I know much time has passed since but it would help me greatly if you could describe what happened to you in as much detail as possible."

The night elf's eyes widened slightly. Her gaze fell and she peered into her cup of tea staring into the grave reflection before her. Samuel knew he was asking for a lot but unfortunately, this was a necessary step to confirm his initial hypothesis. Everything would either end or begin with Narula's testimony.

"No," she sternly began. "I do not mind Samuel. If it will aid you in your journey, then it would be my pleasure to assist you."

"Thank you Narula," spoke the earnest priest. He dunked the tip of the quill into the vial and prepared to take as many notes as he could from the night elf's statement. "Whenever you are ready."

Narula nodded and took one final sip of her tea before she began.

"I remember feeling cold, but not just upon my skin. It burrowed beneath as if chilling my entire body from within."

The quill worked quickly in Samuel's hand. He feverishly poured through every word that came out of his companion's lips and documented every fragment of her memory.

"Then, the val'kyr struck me," the night elf continued. "It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. The cold inside had melted away and in an instant, my entire body was engulfed in flames. I thought my very soul was burning from within."

The priest's ears perked as he carefully compiled each of her words. Her initial description was already starting to sound similar to that which he had read prior. Some would have ended right there but Samuel's thirst for knowledge would not be so easily quenched.

"When the pain started to subside, I opened my eyes, and then… There was nothing."

"Nothing?"

That statement pulled the priest's eyes off the page and he stared into Narula's who continued to avoid looking upon him. She merely provided a single nod of acknowledgement before returning to her story.

"Only for a moment," she answered. "And then, hideous voices began screaming all around me. I was surrounded by their shrieking cries that could not be silenced no matter how tightly I sealed my ears. I tried shouting, pleading even but could not hear anything other than those unintelligible voices tearing into my mind with each and every word."

Samuel had almost become lost in her description that he had forgotten to write it all down. He immediately dug the quill back into the parchment and began scribing her account of the ordeal. Initially, there was only a single similarity. This new testimony nearly confirmed his hypothesis outright. Fortunately for Samuel, he now had a source to provide more insight on the matter as the previous author's scribblings only seemed to aid in confusing him further.

"I thought they would never stop," she confessed. "When the horrific noises finally subsided, I heard a singular voice calling from beyond. I still could not see anything but it beckoned me to listen. All of my anger grew tenfold. My very will ceased to be my own."

Ink speedily flowed from the priest's quill. He jotted down everything, even beyond Narula's own words. Her breathing, movements, and the inflection of her very voice were all vital clues into uncovering this mystery.

"The voice continued to haunt me," the night elf declared. "Taunt me in a sea of black. When the light finally surfaced, I was so frightened, I did not want to even grasp it."

Samuel stopped writing. The quill nearly slipped through his palm. Narula spoke with such passion that he had difficulty remaining vigilant to his cause. The priest let the moment settle and took a deep breath.

"This darkness," he started. "Can you describe it further? What did you sense?"

"Chaos," the night elf replied. Her answer was short and formulaic. "Malevolence. Anger. Violence. Hatred."

There was a brief silence that sat between them. Samuel documented every one of her observations but it appeared there was still something lurking within that she was not ready or perhaps even willing to expose.

"Is that all?"

The night elf painfully shook her head.

"Sadness," she reluctantly answered. "An endless void – "

Narula was immediately silenced by the shrieking cries of an infant. She immediately rose from the table and gasped as the bedroom door opened revealing another night elf wearing a commoner's attire of a white shirt and brown pants while cradling a child in his muscular arms. His skin was the color of orchids though a bit rough where visible. Long cobalt hair fell from his head and just over his shoulders and chest. A thick beard masked most of his expression from view but seemed to highlight the gentle shine of his yellow eyes.

"My apologies," he calmly stated. "She yearns for her mother."

"Forgive me," she replied. "I was entertaining a guest."

"You need not concern yourself the priest spoke while standing from his chair. "I understand and respect your duties as a caretaker."

"Thank you, Samuel."

As soon as the child fell into her arms, the sharp wails ceased almost instantaneously. The night elf stared lovingly at the infant. Despite the dark conversation prior, she stared into the child's eyes as if the rest of the world no longer mattered. The priest wouldn't dare interrupt such a blessed atmosphere.

"You certainly have an aura suitable for motherhood," Samuel remarked.

"Her name is Elunyali," Narula happily answered. "In the common tongue, it means _moonlight_."

"A very beautiful name," the priest replied with a faint flicker of a smile gracing his lips. Despite his seemingly positive demeaner, his level of tact in these situations still needed adjusting according to most. "And what tragedy brought this one into your arms."

The night elf was eerily silent. She cradled the child closely and brought Elunyali into her chest with a gentle squeeze.

"She is my child."

"Your child?" Samuel curiously asked while raising an eyebrow. The child was young but his age could not be determined through simple looks alone. There had to be more to the story. The priest turned towards the male night elf whose expression remained unchanged. "And who might this be?"

That question came out with a bit more malice than originally intended. The priest couldn't quell his reaction as much as he would have preferred. However, something about the mood change suddenly as soon as that door opened.

"This is Athir," Narula softly spoke. "My husband."

Daggers pierced Samuel's heart. His eyes widened uncharacteristically nearly spanning through the thin width of his glasses. Of all the things he was searching for, he did not expect to uncover such bold news as this.

"I don't understand," the priest softly gasped. "How –"

Samuel stopped himself as an aura of disgrace began to seep through her pores. The night elf could no longer look him in the eyes. She stared aimlessly at the ground. Athir walked behind her, placed his hand upon her shoulder and clutched her warmly against his chest.

"After the war ended, we were overrun with abandoned children with nowhere else to call home," Narula painfully began. Her eyes constantly fluttered. Every word that poured through her gentle lavender lips seemed to cut through her throat as if made with broken shards of glass. "It was overwhelming. My best efforts were not good enough anymore. I could no longer afford to keep the orphanage running by myself. Even with the added support of the local villagers, we were destined to fail."

Anger quelled within the priest's core. He could not even begin to dream a scenario such as this. If Narula truly needed assistance, then she should have come to see Samuel first. He would have welcomed her with open arms and provided whatever she needed to continue. She didn't need to resort to this of all things.

"I couldn't do it alone," the night elf continued. "We were running out of food and shelter. And then, just when I was about to give up entirely, Athir arrived on his caravan and saved us."

Narula looked upon her husband lovingly. A bright smile pierced through his beard as he squeezed her tighter.

"How – ," stammered Samuel. He was trying to formulate the words properly but all of his reasoning had been thrown through a loop with this unexpected turn of events. "How long has this been – "

Before he could finish, the priest's profound logical mind had arrived at the answer. The infant in her arms, her slight shift in appearance; it all began to make sense.

"You are with another child, aren't you?"

The night elf stiffened. She continued to avoid his gaze. All she offered in response was an affirming nod.

"Congratulations," Samuel nodded. His mood dimmed to a near lightless aura. He pressed his glasses up and affixed them in their rightful spot.

The priest quickly gathered his things off the table. A foul stench had pierced the atmosphere and he no longer wanted any part of it.

"Thank you for your time Narula. Your statements have been quite helpful. I shall not trouble you any longer."

Samuel slung his tome across his shoulder and his bag over his back while collecting his alchemist's kit. He headed for the door without even a passing glance at the couple. As he stood at the exit, the priest stopped briefly and offered his final words to them not knowing if he would ever return to this place ore see them again.

"Good luck to both of you."

The grass crumbled underneath the priest's boots as he fled from the orphanage with great haste. Although he had collected the necessary information to confirm his hypothesis, something about this visit sat disgustingly in his conscious. Narula was always regarded highly amongst her peers in skill but especially personality. She didn't even seem capable of pulling such a stunt. Of all of his past acquaintances, Samuel would have bet his keep that the night elf would have been the last of them to move one and certainly not the first.

All of these trivial personal matters were starting to unnerve his resolve. The priest had far more important business to settle. He would seek refuge at the nearest inn and immediately send word to the Church of the Holy Light and the Explorers' League of his findings. Once he received their confirmation, he could leave this dreary place and head off to Silithus where he anticipated a more fortuitous and brighter environment.


	5. Chapter 4

_Cenarion Hold_

 _Silithus_

The morning sun crested over the distant hills of the western mountains. Samuel caught a powerful glimpse of the golden light piercing through the tall peaks as he exited the inn. Though he arrived at this outpost late last evening, the priest was still able to get a decent meal and a good amount of rest in this otherwise boorish place. A young squire named Leoren Mal'derath was busy preparing a steed for Samuel's journey today. He didn't prepare much besides purchasing a few days' worth of emergency rations and a waterskin as the envoy from the Explorers' League was also scheduled to be arriving shortly carrying with them weeks' worth of food and provisions to get them through the upcoming excavation.

A cool breeze tickled the priest's cheeks. He immediately procured a quick and small vial of ink and began scribing notes about the weather. This barren wasteland was much farther south than he was just to traveling through and the mornings appeared to warm slowly in contrast to the freezing temperatures of the evenings. Samuel hoped that the experienced team he requested to join them would be equally prepared with the proper low-temp supplies.

"Samuel!"

The priest nearly snapped the quill in half upon hearing the young voice sharply calling out to him. He took a breath and allowed his nerves to settle before turning around and facing the naive that dared to speak to him so casually.

"Good morning," the young priest warmly began with a bright smile that rivaled the rising sun behind him. "You're up rather early. Your last message mentioned that you were in Theramore only two days ago. I would have expected you to arrive here later this afternoon."

"Melchior," sighed Samuel as he slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I did not expect to see you so soon either. I left a detailed message for you with the innkeeper with notes about our intended destination."

"You were going to leave me behind?" The young priest huffed in a torrent of sadness. "That's rather cold of you. We traveled through the entire night just to arrive on time."

" _We?_ "

The priest peered over Melchior's shoulder and caught a fair glimpse of a young woman standing behind him. She was petite with long brown hair wearing simple purple robes. Her face was slender which accentuated the youth in her eyes as she seemed somewhat intimidated to even being noticed by Samuel. He immediately stowed his writing supplies back into the pouches along his leather book wrap with a stern look embedded upon his brow.

"Who is she Melchior?"

"My, how forgetful of me," laughed the young priest while stepping aside revealing the young woman in full. "This is Rylie Bradford, an apprentice mage studying with the Kirin Tor and," he paused as his lips pursed into a wide smile, "My fiancé."

The young mage stepped forward trying to emulate Melchior's smile. She extended her hand gracefully looking upon Samuel less as a peer and more as someone whom of which she admired despite meeting for the first time.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Rylie cheerfully began. Her bubbly voice was an extension of her youthfulness and carried with it a great level of immaturity. "Melchior has spoken a lot about you. I could hardly get him to stop talking without mentioning your name."

Samuel's patience thinned. The blood in his veins began to burn with a great gout of impatience. Her vain attempts of flattery would not quell the newfound disgust burrowing behind his eyes.

"You brought your _lover_ on an official assignment of the Church of the Holy Light given by the Archbishop himself?"

The priest hoped his demeaning tone conveyed his sentiments properly. By the look of sheer shock plastered upon Melchior's brow, it would appear to be working.

"Your previous reports earlier made no mention of any potential dangers," the young priest defended. "I thought this was merely a routine excavation mission."

"Nothing about what I have written could have been interpreted in any way that would even remotely resemble _routine_ ," Samuel hissed. He tugged at the golden mace hanging from a thong and securely fastened to his waist. "Did you believe I brought this weapon along for mere sport?"

The two lovers stood silently bathing in newfound shame brought upon them. A memory of the past immediately washed before the priest's vision. There was something very familiar about the scene playing out before him. Samuel didn't want to admit it outright but instead, chose to let tempers settle and allow himself a moment to look at this situation rationally. There may very well be something positive to take from this new development.

"Perhaps this would explain how you arrived so quickly," the priest sighed. His mood returned to their usual, albeit still critical tone. "Having access to portals would have made my own travels a lot easier."

"Actually," the young priest cringed hoping not to spoil his superior's seemingly lifted mood. "Rylie is still in training and hasn't learned any of the advanced incantations such as teleporting." Melchior immediately noticed the darkening of the priest's expression as was quick to go to his lover's defense. "But she has mastered a couple of the basic offensive spells as well as creating simple food and water which would certainly come in handy in a mission such as this, wouldn't you agree?"

Samuel didn't want to admit outright it but having quick access to sustenance on an endeavor such as this was definitely welcomed. He was not certain how long they would be out there. The priest initially planned for approximately two weeks on location but if certain discoveries are made that would pique his interest to probe further, having a contingency such as Rylie's ability to conjure meals would be a vital asset. However, he still couldn't force himself to wholly accept this unintended outcome without further probing of this new variable.

"Do you think it is wise to leave your studies so soon in order to join us on this mission?" Samuel calmly asked. He bore into the young mage's eyes hoping to decipher more of her intentions from just her meager words. "Though I don't foresee anything critical, I always plan for every exigency of danger when the potential of it lurks. Perhaps it would be better for you to work on honing your own skills than being a mere trinket on the arms of your lover."

Rylie pulled back from the direct line of question. She had difficulty maintaining her resolve and even looking at the priest's eyes proved to be too taxing for her current effort.

"Well, I didn't _want_ to leave," the young mage meekly. "But Melchior was very insistent. He said he didn't think he could take being stranded on a desert for so long without being able to feel the touch of a woman." A smile immediately lifted upon her lips and she reached forward and clasped the young priest by the arm while burying her head into his chest. "And I just can't say no to him when he's being so honest."

Melchior seemingly froze where he stood. A simultaneous expression of embarrassment and horror was plastered upon his brow. The priest, however, merely let out a solemn sigh. These two were still young and full of vigor amongst other unseemly things. It was certainly difficult at their age to combat such urges. Not everyone could be as resolute as he was regarding such matters. If he would ever take the role of a bishop, dealing with the youths such as them would be a daily commonplace occurrence. This could very well be the Archbishop's way of testing Samuel, preparing him for the endeavors and responsibilities that will be wrought upon him once he joins the council.

Another dismissive sigh exited the priest's lips. Samuel simply prayed he would not bear witness to any sight or sound of fornication during their trip. At the very least, he hoped his envoys would have a greater aura of professionalism to balance them out.

"Just ensure that your relationship will not get in the way of my research," the priest commanded while pressing the rim of his glasses tightly against his face. "Otherwise, you will have more to worry about that the outlying dangers of the unknown wilds of these lands."

There was a distinct pause between them as the tension grew so thick it could be hacked away with the even the dullest of blades. Samuel wanted to convey his utmost seriousness without any room for doubt. This was perhaps one of the most unique opportunities he had ever been given and was not about to let it get squandered thanks to their uncontrollable physical urges. The still looks on the young couple's face appeared to have cemented his intentions in their proper place. However, this pleasant scene was rudely interrupted by a bellow of untimely laughter.

"Oh Samuel!" Melchior chuckled. He had difficulty standing straight and relied on the crutch of his lover's shoulder in order to remain on his feet. "The Archbishop warned me that you may be difficult to get along with but he made no mention of your preference for dark humor as well!"

The young priest continued to laugh into the empty sky without regard.

"You certainly had me going for a moment," he giggled. "Threatening us with harm was a nice touch as well."

The priest's brow furrowed. Melchior appeared to lack basic empathy or perhaps used this as a defense mechanism to bury his true emotions from view. Either way, Samuel knew he was going to have his hands full. This _potential_ the Archbishop spoke of was just a clever ruse. The priest knew of no one in the whole of the Church who acted in such a manner and make it passed acolyte let alone bishop. Samuel had all but confirmed it now. If he could solve the mystery of this dark and unknown power bearing the weight of these two fools upon his shoulders, a bishop's duties would be a welcomed burden.

A gentle trotting of hooves thankfully interrupted this futile conversation. The priest turned towards the direction of the sound. A pair of black horses carting a medium size cart fully enclosed with a thick white sheet rose from the eastern portion of the hill. The wagon was draped with the emblem of a crossed hammer and pick. Two stout dwarves sat in the front, each carrying a pair of leather whips tied to the reins of their respective beast.

The cart came to a slow halt just before the priest. Samuel gave the new arrivals a quick once over as they exited their seats. The first dwarf was quite the specimen. A short trail of ceramic white hair fell from his neck and chin and hovered just above his chest. He was draped it scarred brown leather clothes with dingy yellow trim along the seams and edges. It seemed this one was much more seasoned as his attire and facial wrinkles dictated. Finally, the ensemble was topped off with a simple leather hat fitted with a worn silver buckle in the center.

Tufts of sand quaked as the second dwarf leapt from his chair and landed beside the priest. This one was much younger than his cohort. Long strands of blazing orange hair were neatly tied into a tight ponytail on both sides of his head. He was fitted in a long-sleeved striped blue shirt and shorts that didn't appear to see much of anything outside of the friendly confines of a building. This one appeared to have pulled himself right off the pages of the training manual and is seeing his first day of actual outside work.

"Ay lad," the elder dwarf called as he slowly waddled around the parked horses. "Would you be the one we were look'n for?"

The priest stepped forward and calmly introduced himself.

"I'm Samuel Legend," he stated with a short nod. "And you are?"

"Prospector Gehn," the dwarf happy replied.

He extended his beefy arm forward. Samuel responded in kind. The dwarf may have looked old but his grip was still powerful.

"Pleasure to make yer acquaintance lad," said Gehn as he released the priest's hand. "I dinnea know you'd be so young. 'Ol Brann was sayin' yer some kind of legend. I dinnea know it was just in yer name."

Samuel let out a disapproving huff. What little interaction he had with the leader of the Explorers' Guild all those years ago was apparently still enough to tell such an endearing story. The priest had heard every level of insult regarding his unique surname. This dwarf nor anyone else in his presence could say little to get under Samuel's skin.

"Where are me manners?" The elder dwarf commented. He stood next to his younger brethren and rapped his thick arm across his shoulder. "This here's Junior Archeologist Ferd, me protégé. I'd be the grass under a snow-covered plot in me home of Dun Morogh several times over if it weren't for this lad right 'ere."

"Great ta meet ya," announced the young dwarf. His voice was course but full of vigor. He shook the priest's hand heartily but with not nearly as much strength has his older counterpart. "I've been lookin' forward to this for weeks.

"I see," nodded the priest. He composed himself as best as he could and attempted to reduce his condescending tone with as much resilience as he could muster when he asked, "Is this your first true excavation?"

"Don't be judgin' this one by his looks," countered the elder dwarf. "Ferd here's as much of a scrapper as anyone. He ain't afraid to get his hands dirty."

Gehn gave the strapping young dwarf a quick look from top to bottom and shrugged.

"He just likes to keep himself cleaner than most is all."

"Very well," the priest began. "Did you get my final message with the list of requested provisions?"

"Ay lad," Gehn confirmed. "Everything ye ask fer is right inside me wagon. Easy as elderberry pie. This ain't me first dig lad. Ya ain't got nothin' to fear. Yer in good hands with us three by yer side."

"Three?" Samuel raised an eyebrow as he turned to peek inside the wagon. There didn't appear to be a single soul residing within unless of course the bread had gained sentience on the ride over here. "Did you happen to lose one already?"

"Oh fer cryin' out loud," the elder dwarf scoffed. "Where did that lass run off to dis time?"

"She wanted to investigate the mountains just south of here," Ferd replied. "Was only trailing behind us no more than half a mile."

"That one's got a nose fer trouble," spat Gehn. He scurried to the closest hilltop he could find and peered down. "I wonder where she's buried her head this – "

The elder dwarf gasped at the sight playing out before him.

"Oh no!"

Gehn raced to the wagon calling upon his protégé for assistance.

"Quickly Ferd!" The frantic dwarf cried out. "Where did ye put me musket?!"

"It's still in the box underneath the flagons," answered the young dwarf. "Ye told me to keep it safe."

"How's a buried gun gonnea do us any good lad?!"

"What is going on Samuel?" Melchior peacefully inquired while stepping forward ever so slightly. His sense of urgency was miniscule in comparison to the other two stocky creatures digging around through barrels of water and bags of bread. "What did that old dwarf –"

The young priest's approach and words were silenced as Samuel extended his right arm and blocked his path. His voiceless instructions appeared to have been registered as the priest moved forward on his own and bore witness to the sight that seemingly took Gehn's breath away.

Dust violently scraped up in a thin line painting the otherwise dull landscape in a sea of chaos. Leading the charge was a strong white stallion feverishly kicking its hooves across the empty landscape and racing towards the Cenarion Hold outpost. A pair of wine-colored silithid reavers gave chase to the creature. Their mauling appendages tore pierced through the dense earth and keeping a close pace with their intended target. When Samuel laid eyes upon the rider of that horse, he took felt breath escaping but nowhere near the way his dwarven companion had experienced.

Marvelous long strands of deep red hair flowed from one side of her head. It shimmered as if it were spun from the finest rubies. The opposite site appeared to be shaved entirely clean save for a thin layer of crimson stubble. It immediately drew attention to the dozens of lacerations piercing her ear where serval unique rings, trinkets and ornaments hung. There were so many pieces that it almost seemed like it was more engineering tinker than flesh and blood.

Her attire was equally as alarming as her choice of style. The air was still chilling and yet she dressed as if it were the hottest of summer days. A small pair of leather shorts which were no longer than a foot revealed most of her cream-colored legs and led to a small pair of simple brown boots. She wore a similarly colored vest with a plain white shirt that exposed most, if not all of her midsection and left little to the imagination. Slung across her back was a long arcanite rifle with thick scope attached to the top. Another smaller hand cannon was affixed to her waist as well and certainly highlighted her preferred style of combat. Her hands were clasped with a pair of leather gloves as she feverishly squeezed the reins of her horse as they were mere moments away from reaching the outpost with two unwelcomed guests in tow.

What drew the priest's attention was not her appearance but rather, her expression. This young woman appeared to actually enjoy being chased by these massive bugs. A wide smile graced her pink lips. Her sharp green eyes did not have an ounce of fear or hesitation lurking within. She truly embraced this experience despite her very life being at the throws of those hungry silithids giving chase. One false step or soft patch of sand and that grin was moments away from entering the digestive tracks of those sickening insects.

The rider and her horse frantically raced up the path. They were only moments away from reaching the top where the others stood watching vigilantly. Samuel processed the various scenarios in his head immediately. His funneled through and picked the most likely outcome in less than a second. The priest's hands started to glow with a bright golden radiance. He channeled the powerful divinity in his palms and prepared to unleash them at the approaching silithids.

As soon as Samuel extended his palms, his mind beckoned him to cease upon the new and rather unexpected development. The rider released the reins and jumped on the top of the saddle. She stood vigilantly, controlling the horse's movements with so much as the change in pressure from her heels and started to slow down as they approached the wagon. The spirited mustang release and satisfying snort as the rider sprang forward, leaping high into the air and flipping forward as if though she were a leaf blatantly disobeying the wind's persistence.

The rider's boots landed heavily on top of the wagon's roof. Both bugs were no more than a stone's throw away. She immediately drew her pistol and fired two concussive shots from her hip without even releasing it from the leather binding that tied it securely to her belt. The bullets instantly tore throw the thin shells of the silithid reavers' skulls. A gout of bright pink blood gushed from the craters where their heads once sat. Their bodies tumbled and flopped to the ground with a satisfying plop. They continued to fidget and twist as the remaining life and warmth escaped their hideous looking carcasses.

"Whew," the bold rider enthusiastically called. "That was a close one."

She chipperly bounced from the roof and landed before the priest as if the last bit of combat was but a distant memory. The rider bent over slightly and gave herself a quick once over not showing any concern for revealing excessive cleavage that the top of her white shirt failed to shelter. All of the excess dirt and debris were quickly kicked off with a couple of good swipes from her hands and she stood upright once more.

A few of the locals started to peak outside and see what the commotion was about. The guards even came running, brandishing their weapons as if under a direct assault. Samuel could not blame them. Those gunshots were rather loud and he looked nearly just as guilty with his own palms still retaining the delicate glow of the Light.

The rider looked around the ensuing chaos she had brought upon this outpost. It only took a moment for the color in her face to drop as well as the chipper expression of her. She looked at the collection of night elves, tauren, and other members of the Cenarion Circle and shrugged.

"Sorry about that," she humbly apologized. "Rotten bugs just wouldn't let up."

There was a collective grunt of disapproval from the surrounding guards. They slowly made their way back to their posts while muttering their contempt for the scene that just played out before them.

"Ya gotta be more careful," the elder dwarf dejectedly sighed. "My heart can't take ye runnin' off like that."

"Aw, you need to relax Gehn," She smirked. "Nothing says 'good morning' like a rush of adrenaline. It'll be much better for your heart than all of those chocolate cake slices you've been sneaking at night."

The elder dwarf let out a mumbling tirade of dwarvish obscenities. He tried to defend himself but the rider's words must have frazzled Gehn's rusty mind. The poor dwarf couldn't let out another more than a muffled cough in response.

"Excuse me," Samuel interjected.

This charade had gone on long enough. The priest already was filled with some many questions begging to get answered. The first of which was determining just who was this passionately brash and uncouth young woman who made an explosive introduction.

"Excuse _me_ ," she cheerily replied while turning to face the priests. "Where are my manners?"

She took a brash step forward and stood before the priest. Her fists dug into her hips as she proudly pushed her chest forward and boldly announced herself.

"Archeologist Mira reporting for duty!"

Samuel pressed the rims of his glasses up and carefully assessed the situation. This was certainly an odd turn of events. For starters, the Explorers' League was a dwarven organization whose purpose is to discover the history of their race. Sure, they had a few none dwarven members here or there but the priest was quite surprised how someone such her rose from their ranks to achieve such a profound title.

The archeologist was a specimen unlike anything he had ever seen before. She looked wild and unchained as if the rules of the world were only mere suggestions to her. Her style was far beyond anything the priest had ever bore witness to. She looked ready to fight a war and yet, would stick out boldly on any battlefield like a sore thumb. It was almost as if she were purposely trying to call attention to herself and yet, carried no realization to just how unique she truly was. Samuel thought he had his hands full with the two love birds behind him but this one looked as if she could drain his font of patience in as little as a sentence.

"Samuel Legend," the priest spoke. He turned slightly and introduced the young priest with a simple gesture. "Any my associate, Melchior Soames from the Church of the Holy Light."

"Pleased to meet you," she grinned while winking at the young priest.

"I trust you received all of my messages informing you of my – "

Mira took a step back and folded her arms together underneath her chest. She gave Samuel a deep look and started assessing him from top to bottom.

"I had a much different picture of you in my head," she brazenly started. "You sounded so much older on paper I thought I was going to have to nurse you on top of doing all the digging and searching."

The priest's expression cracked ever so slightly. If anyone blinked, they would have missed it entirely. Samuel knew he spoke and wrote with a refined sense but that simple came from his noble upbringing. He believed speaking directly and getting straight to the point would spare everyone from wasting any moments attempting to decipher potential hidden meanings. It appears as though the priest has become greatly misunderstood. Still, he wasn't about to let that comment go unchallenged either.

"And I had no idea we would be heading into a warzone," countered Samuel. "All of those armaments seem a bit excessive for examining deserted ruins."

The lights reflection bounced off the priest's glasses ever so slightly as he gave the rims a quick flick.

"Unless of course, you are attempting to over compensating for lacking in other areas."

"What, these?" The archeologist replied while casually nudging her pistol and rifle. She followed with a brief laugh. "You can never be too prepared. I always feel better knowing I can get the drop on someone from a distance. Never been a fan of wearing armor, you know?"

Based on her choice of attire, she didn't care to wear much of anything. Mira was surprisingly chatty but also seemingly unfazed by the priest's bold attempt to throw her off guard. Samuel actually wanted to commend her for it. It took a steeled mind and steady wit to remain calm in the face of direct ridicule.

"And what of that?" The priest pointed down where a small silver dagger was sheathed and strapped to her right ankle. "I hope that's not ammunition for that rifle of yours."

"Oh _him_?" She said with a bright smile. The archeologist reached down and plucked the weapon from its leather wrapping. "I call him _Last Resort_."

"Last Resort?"

Samuel raised an eyebrow hoping to expose the true meaning to such a silly name without wasting another breath.

"Yep," nodded Mira while dancing the blade back and forth between her hands. The dagger glided from palm to palm with a surprising amount of elegance and grace. She quickly showcased the mastery over such a weapon before giving it a quick flick and throwing it down right back into its sheath. "I figure I've got to be either disarmed or crazy to ever need to use this thing."

The priest scoffed which was about as much of a laugh as he could muster. Perhaps he had misjudged her. She was not only bold but had a certain outlook on life that was surprisingly refreshing. At the very least, this mission would be anything but boring.

"Before we get started," the archeologist opened. "We need to settle a few ground rules."

Samuel's expression darkened. He did not expect to hear of any contingencies when requesting the assistance of the Explorers' League. The priest did not trifle in any message about his true intentions. Mira immediately caught wind of the distilled look upon his face and sought to further explain her reasoning.

"Nothing major," she defended casually waving her arms back and forth. "Just a few things we need to clear up and agree upon to make this a healthy and fruitful partnership."

" _Partnership?_ "

That word struck a chord with Samuel. He made it very clear to the Explorers' League and the Church of his intentions. This was supposed to be _his_ assignment, _his_ mission, _his_ research. This was an unnecessary and unwelcomed complication that would only serve to hold him back. Before he could begin formulating his initial retort in a long series of unpleasant comments, he was immediately silenced by the energetic woman's grand exclamation.

"Hell yeah!" Cheered Mira. "I mean, we're going to be rummaging through the remains of an Old God! The army and adventurers were sure to leave this place just as soon as they were done with it and probably left so many stones unturned. Can you image what secrets and knowledge were hidden within?"

The archeologist hugged herself tightly. A wide smile graced her lips as she shook back and forth with a hungry look in her eyes.

"I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it!" Mira commented with glee. She released the grip upon herself and stood proudly with her fists upon her hips once more. "I can't believe none of the other haggard bums wanted to take this assignment."

Samuel was taken aback. He hadn't anticipated such an honest and yet boldly similar answer. The archeologist may have looked a bit unorthodox and her personality left more to be desired from times but her heart was certainly in the right place. For that, the priest couldn't find a single argument to counter and graciously anticipated hearing the guidelines for this expedition.

"Very well," nodded Samuel. "What did you have in mind?"

The archeologist steeled herself. Her expression changed in the blink of an eye. Piercing hazel opals stared back at the priest. She conveyed a level of seriousness Samuel didn't believe she was actually capable of up until this very moment. Though, it still proved difficult to engage her act fully given her style choices and attire.

"Rule number one," Mira jovially stated while thrusting her fist forward with an index finger pointing towards the sky. "Respect the skills and experience."

The priest's brow tightened. He hadn't expected a brash declaration but due to her unflinching resolve, warmed to the idea and allowed her to continue.

"When it comes to cataloguing, divinations, and all of that brainy stuff, I'll promise to stay out of your way," continued the archeologist. "However, exploration and spelunking are my forte. I'm in charge of the dig site and if I say something is too dangerous or not worth the trek, you're going to listen. Got it?"

Mira certainly had a way with words even if they were of the simple variety. She definitely seemed concerned about the safety of this mission but Samuel was unsure how deeply he could empathize with her when his task in all of this was simply _brainy stuff_ reduced the praise he could offer by a marginal amount.

Despite her delivery, the request was rather reasonable. Archeology was foreign to the priest beyond what he had read in tomes and reports prior. Perhaps after this excavation ends, Samuel would continue his own personal research and become an expert in his own right. The mocking that would follow would be worth the extra hours of work.

"That's fair," the priest nodded. "I have already outlined all of the materials I will require while on site. Will that pose a problem?"

Mira casually shook her head.

"Not at all," she said with a short but distinct smile. "We brought all of the tools and lumber necessary to build everything you've asked for. I actually appreciate all of the thought and detail you put into it. Those blueprints will make our job a whole lot easier."

The priest was almost satisfied enough with that response to answer with his own smile.

"Very good," Samuel calmly stated. "Is there anything else?"

"Yep," nodded the archeologist. "A big one. Probably the most important rule of them all."

That was quite surprising to hear. Normally, safety was the overriding factor in all decision making but Mira apparently valued something else above everything else. She stepped forward and leaned in very close. They were barely a separated by the entire length of a foot. In this moment, the priest could see no one else but her unique visage. She certainly had a pension for theatrics but Samuel appreciated the effort. He could do nothing else but listen intently and eagerly await what should be the most important rule of them all.

"No matter what happens," she grimly began. Her arms waved in rhythmic fashion to convey the gravity of her words. "You absolutely cannot under any circumstances fall in love with me."

The priest's stance cracked. His glasses nearly slid off his face entirely. Samuel quickly tried to regain his composure but the sheer gall and silliness of this request through all of his logical functions through an unexpected loop.

"You cannot be serious?" He replied almost stuttering though each spoken word.

"'Fraid so lad," the elder dwarf sighed. "I dinnea think so either 'til I'd seen it with me own eyes."

Samuel to stare with a morbid sense of drew brewing through his thoughts.

"You speak as if this is commonplace?"

"Happens all the time," added Ferd. "We've only been on a few expeditions with her lately but so far, it hasn't failed."

The priest continued to be dumbfounded. It was audacious to think that such a scenario would even present itself. By all current measures, she was nowhere near the specimen that Samuel would even consider for such a luxury. To even have to mention it out loud was flabbergasting enough. The priest needed a few moments to collect himself properly in order to formulate a proper response but Mira was poised to follow up on her associates previous comments.

"You have no idea what it's like because it's probably your first time," the archeologist stated. "Being stuck in tight spaces for days, weeks, and sometimes months will get to anyone. I try to keep everything professional but so far, everyone's failed to heed my warning no matter how much I've insisted."

Mira finished the last statement with a powerful stomp. Then, she clutched herself tightly as horror washed over her eyes.

"Coming home to dozens of letters and cards from all of those past clients begging me to come see them one last time," she groaned. "It's so creepy!"

The archeologist relaxed her arms and followed with another big stomp.

"I'm an adventurer, you know?" Pouted Mira. "There's still so much of this world I want to see. I can't be tied down to every infatuated jerk that comes my way. No matter how outgoing or reserved they appear, men still find a way."

"Don't forget that one lass a few months back," said Gehn. "She seemed so uptight and serious. I dinnea think her lasso swung in that direction either."

"Oh I know!" The archeologist replied. "She was so intense too. I think she's the one leaving me roses every time I come back to Goldshire."

The members of the Explorers' League continued to discuss the challenging matter amongst themselves without any regard to their audience. Samuel let their droning prattle one while he composed himself and prepared a counterargument of his own. If he was ever going to seize power in this partnership, it was best to establish clear guidelines that he could not and would not be easily trifled with.

"I understand," responded the priest while firming his stance. "That will not be a problem."

His statement immediately silenced the opposing conversation. Mira looked at him as if she was not entirely convinced. This was the most opportune moment to strike. Samuel took a breath as a serious expression fell upon him.

"However," he boldly began while pressing his glasses back into their proper place. "I must ask the same from you as well."

"Say what?!"

The words came fluttering out of her lips with such tremendous force it startled the horses. She stumbled trying to find proper footing but couldn't seem to shake of the sheer guts of the words fired back at her. This may have been the very first time the archeologist had faced such a challenging opponent. If she wanted to battle in a game of wits, there was no fiercer opponent than Samuel Legend.

"The brass on this lad," Gehn laughed. "I think it's happened more den once fer this fellow too Mira."

"I think he's onto something," grinned Ferd. "The lass here is starting to turn red all over."

"Enough!"

The archeologist stomped her boot one final time that sent tremors quaking throughout the entire outpost. Everyone fell eerily still. Even the horses appeared to have stopped breathing entirely under the weight of Mira's expressive anger. She quickly shook off the shock and embarrassment that had suddenly fallen over her and regained her stalwart composure once more.

"You've got a deal," the archeologist spoke. She extended her arm in a traditional fashion and patiently awaited the priest to reciprocate in kind. "Partners?"

The priest sized Mira's hand into his and shook it confidently. His expression did not break nor did his eyes leave hers for a single moment. She had a strong grip but given the shape and size of her exposed muscles, it shouldn't have been a surprise. This one may have been a handful for some but Samuel believed she would have the situation well in order by evening's end.

"As you wish."

They released their hands. Mira was surprisingly jolly despite suffering a brief embarrassment earlier. Any mockery didn't take residence for long and seemingly glided off her back as quickly as they were washed upon it.

"Great," she smiled boldly. "I think we're going to have a lot of fun together Sammy!"

Lightning struck the priest's spine. It took every fiber of his resolve not to showcase his distress physically. The archeologist was not easy dissuaded either. Perhaps he was too quick to judge. His hands were going to be full indeed. He only hoped there were enough distractions to keep his mind occupied and away from any future insipid conversations. Somehow, he felt as if luck would be harder to find than the mystery he hoped to soon uncover.


	6. Chapter 5

_The Ruins of An'Qiraj_

 _Silithus_

Ancient stone structures covered with filthy moss and mildew littered the area of this otherwise barren desert. Decayed husks of fallen silithids and similar disgusting carapaces laid upon the sullen dry dirt. Thankfully, the stench of their rotting hides had long since been absorbed by the musky scent of earth but one would be hard pressed to forget the remaining images of that dreaded war and the scar it laid upon the world.

Samuel walked alongside his steed as they moved through a large hexagonal carved stone gate. Upon entering the ruins, he had requested to take a more careful approach. It wasn't so much as that he feared any remaining qiraji lurking about. Rather, he was more interested in taking his time and examining the area carefully. Anything they found from here on out could be a potential clue to unlocking the mysterious power wielded by the Forsaken priests.

The sun nearly reached the tip of the far western mountains as it began to set. Traveling here from the outpost took nearly the entirety of the day. Though the scenery was rather drab, it was a much more welcomed alternative to the incessive chatting going on along the way. Melchior was rather insistent in asking as many questions about their assignment and the priest's thought process regarding it. Thankfully, he accepted each and every vague answer and remained silent enough to make the last leg of the journey a bit more peaceful.

"This place is givin' me the shivers," Gehn remarked. He remained firmly tucked within the same confines of his wagon seated next to his young protégé as they trotted along the end of the pack. "It's like walkin' through a nightmare yee'd be beggin' ta forget."

"It's not so bad," commented the young priest. Melchior smiled at the very sentiment while chewing on a small pinch of roasted pumpkin seeds and spitting out the shells onto the ground. "It is as if we're walking through a piece of history. Lost in time and forgotten like so many memories. It's truly remarkable when you stop and think about it."

"Well, I'd rather not be stoppin' here longer than it takes to empty a keg at Brewfest," the Prospecter retorted. "Stray in here for too long and yer liable to become lost just like yer memories."

Gehn may have seemed frightened but the priest was easily able to decipher the intent of the words presented. The Prospector wasn't scared, he was being cautious. Once they entered the ruins, they could only rely on their combined skills and experience to return safely. There were no stable sources of water or food for miles. If something were to occur inside, the two weeks' worth of supplies may not be enough to sustain them. Of course, Rylie's skills could prove useful here but she was a wild card; untested and therefore, unreliable until put into action. Any rescue attempts sent by the Church would take weeks to arrive and that's if the Archbishop had the wherewithal to send someone after not hearing back in a month's time.

"Yer just being over-dramatic," Ferd sneered. "Old timer's always like to embellish."

"Old timer?!" Snarled the Prospector. "That's something yee'll never be if ye – "

The dwarf's harsh words were immediately silenced by the howling cries of the horses as they reared back and came to a complete halt.

"What in the blazes?!"

Both dwarves shouted simultaneously as their steeds' hooves crushed the ground below with a quaking thud. Samuel immediately shot his hand outward giving everyone the silent order to halt and remain quiet. They were just about to turn a sharp corner when the horses must have detected something they just couldn't see yet.

The priest patted his mount carefully and slowly proceeded down the path. Everyone's eyes bore down upon him. It could very well be the last time they see him take a breath as their very own appeared to be lost in confusion and curiosity.

Samuel proceeded silently. Even his cloth robes barely wafted with each step he took. The priest gradually leered around the stone wall. He inhaled a deep gulp of air as he attempted to unravel the mystery that laid out before him. A massive created carved out of pure obsidian laid battered, beaten, and broken upon its back.

A deep and depressing sigh burst through Samuel's lungs. His shoulder's relaxed and immediately motioned for the rest of the group to approach.

"There is nothing to fear," the priest dejectedly sighed. "Only the mere deactivated husk of a fallen Anubisath."

"Anubi-what?" Melchior interestedly pondered as he gathered around alongside everyone else. "What kind of creature is thaaaa - ?!"

The young priest's voice had been stolen before he could complete that though upon viewing the giant black humanoid husk that lied in front of them. This beast was easily twenty feet tall when it could stand upright though it was at least five feet thick lying on its backside. Golden straps and chains covered its muscular body along with dirty white garments covering the more revealing sections of this creature's body. A tattered scarf draped over its shoulders and chest which led towards a long, dog-like face and a pair of tall ears. The snout itself was taller than any of the surrounding travelers which would make this beast a fearsome adversary should it be active.

"It's an Anubi _sath_ ," corrected Samuel. "These were thought to be guardians of the temple created by the the Twin Emperors: Vek'nilash and Vek'lor to serve as soldiers and guardians during the War of the Shifting Sands. However, they are actually –"

"Titan constructs."

The groups' focus immediately shifted towards the spry young voice that had interrupted the priest. Mira grinned widely as she approached without fear or reservation. She began examining the creature from its gargantuan feet all the way up to its massive chest.

"They were created in the Forge of Wills by the Titans," she continued. The archeologist climbed on top of the fallen Anubisath warrior and stood proudly atop it's chest. "Look here."

Mira leaned forward without even bending her knees while drawing her finger along the chest of the creature.

"These markings bear the symbol of the Titans," said the archeologist. "It's where their core lies, giving them some minor sentience but soon became enslaved by the Aqir thus, becoming a servant and guardian of the Old God."

There was a long lingering silence amongst them. Almost everyone could not take their eyes off of Mira and the sudden revelation she had bestowed upon the rest of the expedition group.

"That," remarked the priest with a renewed sense of astonishment. "Is correct."

"See?" The archeologist smirked with continuing to peer closer at the faded gem within the Anubisath's chest. "It's deniable. The markings – "

She immediately snapped up realizing the precarious position she stood in and faced the others. They all stared upon her with hungering eyes, Rylie included, admiring her rather risqué though apparently unintended pose. Everyone immediately began collecting themselves and tried to shuffle through their own embarrassment as best as they could; everyone that is, but the priest.

Samuel's eyes and attention were buried in his tome. He began scribing notes of this creature and walked forward to draft the markings mentioned by the archeologist.

"Its size, shape, and musculature bear a strong resemblance to the constructs found within Ulduar as well," added the priest while staring intently at the Anubisath's lightless chest while scribing every detail possible. "Unfortunately, they were all ripe for corrupting as soon as the Titans departed Azeroth. It is a shame the Old God's hold upon them terminates upon defeat. I am curious to study the –"

The heavy shift in air forced Samuel to pull his gaze away from his tome. Mira was now standing right in front of him, bearing her lingering expression and a wholehearted curiosity with her wide and powerful eyes.

"Ulduar?!" The archeologist leaned in with glee. She couldn't even blink as the excitement of this discovery took over her rational thought completely. "You've actually trekked inside of the Titan-city itself?!"

The priest immediately pulled back, slamming his tome shut and allowing it to fall to his side. He pressed the rims of his glasses upward and stared at Mira coolly.

"Was that not indicated upon taking this assignment?" He calmly asked. "I had sent the request to Brann personally. He knew of all the details. Did he not mention – ?"

A loud thump echoed off the husk of the Anubisath's carcass as the archeologist's powerful boot rang off its hefty hide.

"Of course he wouldn't _mention_ it," scoffed Mira as she clenched her fists tightly and delivered another strong kick against the obsidian creature's thick arm. "That chiseler's always been trying to hold me back!"

The mood grew dim amongst them. A thick air of anxiety brewed from the archeologist's menacing aura.

"I had to practically beg him to let me go on the Halls of Stone expedition," she angrily spoke. "He calls _me_ too wild and animalistic and yet that loud mouth draenei couldn't stop getting into trouble all the while we were in there. Thankfully his wife was able to calm him down most of the time but that damned Brann made it seem like I was the troublemaker!"

The Anubisath's arm vibrated as another hefty boot cracked against its unmoving appendage.

"You start one little rockslide in an unstable quarry and suddenly, I'm branded for life!" She pouted while folding her arms atop each other across her chest. "I'm starting to think that he's racist towards humans."

"Com'on lass," Gehn groaned. "Ye know it's not like that."

"Brann's nose fer trouble's bigger den anyone in the whole of Dun Morogh," added Ferd. "He's just lookin' out fer you lass."

The priest pulled himself away while the dwarves consoled their superior. He pieced together the details of her fuming tirade carefully. Some of the bits he could easily extrapolate such as knowledge of the Forge of Wills. There were many documents enclosed about that device that Samuel researched in preparation for their voyage to Ulduar. Seeing it firsthand must have been truly remarkable as the extensive details painted the machine in a magnificent light. Mira had a lot of knowledge and experience under her belt. Perhaps he could learn a few things from the archeologist on this trip. The priest was willing to admit that much. However, what he wouldn't disclose was any knowledge of those two particular draenei's involvement with the expedition as it would only seem to incite her already unstable mood.

"Thanks," shrugged Mira. "I'll be okay. I get why he does it. Just ticks me off is all."

"Nonsense," the priest countered. "You have every right to be upset."

All eyes and ears fell upon Samuel. He had no idea his words carried such a powerful weight to them. The priest thought his statement was rather obvious. He wasn't attempting to console the archeologist but rather, give her validation for her apparent anger over the situation. However, it would appear that this comment alone would not suffice as the others were curios to hear more.

"According to the records of that expedition, Brann's curiosity nearly got his entire crew killed after triggering an alarm within the Hall's system," Samuel began. His mind was soon flooded with the horrors lurking inside of the Ulduar and all of the menacing and harrowing encounters they faced that paled in comparison to the frightening description initially posed. "He was always precocious about hiding the details. After the torment he set up for us, I'd say any ill-will thrown in that dwarf's direction is more than justified, it's practically warranted."

There was a brief pause as the other stewed through the explanation. The dwarve's initially appeared disturbed that some lowly human could speak so boldly about their leader but nothing he said remained was untrue or malicious.

"You're," Mira slowly gasped. "Absolutely right. How did you know all of that?"

The priest removed his glasses and cleaned the lenses carefully with between his gauntleted thumb and forefinger.

"I did my research before venturing into the Titan-forged city," he shrugged while places the glasses carefully upon his face once more. "One must always be properly prepared less he desires to reminisce upon his follies moments before death."

While the others were rather impressed with Samuel's astute quote, the archeologist let out a small laugh in response.

"I was wrong about you," she teased. "Here I thought you were just some stuck up noble like the rest of them and yet every nugget of insight you share continues to prove me wrong."

"Noble?" Pondered the priest. Throughout the several hours they shared together, Mira had not once let out any indication that she knew anything about him in the slightest. "How did you - ?"

"Oh, I have my ways," she grinned. "You nobles always have a tell. The way you stand and speak with such aloof confidence, it was painfully obvious."

Samuel's brow furrowed. He dissected every breath uttered by the archeologist in an attempt to formulate a proper conclusion.

"And the way you speak," he countered. "Appears as if you have something personally against them."

Mira pulled back and crossed her arms over her chest once more. She gazed upon the glazed orange sky above and began to tap her index finger slowly atop her chin.

"Not exactly," she contemplated. "Though, I guess you could say that I'm not their biggest fan either."

The archeologist relaxed her arms and began to sulk.

"It's just," she softly spoke. "How do you ever get anything done? They've got so many rules to follow and political games to play. It's like living your life bound to the collective will of the select few instead of living freely. I know Brann and his brother the King are like oil and water when it comes to their personalities but even the younger sibling's guilty of acting stuck up from time to time."

Though she was speaking rather inanely, Mira did indeed have a point. Nobles were a special breed but their finer points certainly outweighed some of the lower ones listed. Perhaps it is merely a matter of perspective.

"Indeed," Samuel conceded. "Though, it would be too precarious to dawdle on such trivial matters."

The priest moved forward, extended his arm outward and revealed the majestic sight that everyone was too preoccupied to even notice.

"Not all nobles hide behind their names or keeps," he sternly commented. "How many others have been allowed to bear witness to such a historic location?"

The entrance to the Temple of Ahn'Qiraj nearly took their collective breaths away. It was a structure unlike anything in the whole of Azeroth. Two obsidian statues carved in the shape of a winged feline sat on opposing sides with a trio of similarly constructed obelisks rose from the highest purchase above. Wide purple staircases ascended from three separate directions atop of three different platforms. Hundreds of lifeless shells of various colors, shapes, and sizes were cluttered along the open pathway. Husks of defeated Anubisath warriors laid strewn about the ground floor of the entrance. The rotting carapace of a massive magenta qiraj creature rotted atop the first flight of stairs.

Finally, standing above the peak was the most impressive sight of them all. A golden disk hung between two decayed and curved stone pillars depicted a large scarab spanning nearly the entirety of its width. It appeared nearly identical to the Scarab Dias they had passed earlier just outside of the ruins.

"The entire war effort was funded large in part due to the collective efforts of those that sit and write rather than those who stand and fight."

"Wow," the archeologist gulped. Her eyes widened so deeply that her irises appeared to be pools of pure jade where curiosity furiously continued to wade. "It's so beautiful."

"Beautiful?" Scoffed the Prospector. "Look around here! Der's nothin' but death and war before us. Yee'd have to be a fool or worse to look at that graveyard filled with bugs and call it pretty. 'Tis no wonder why this lass can't find herself a good lad."

Mira appeared undeterred by the dwarf's blatant jabs. She stood in awe of the titan-forged structure and marveled at the history that would soon be within their very grasp.

"Just when I think I have you all figured out," the archeologist jeered with a smirk pursing upon her lips. "You keep surprising me. How did a noble ever give birth to someone so receptive and indulgent as you?"

The priest almost laughed at that comment. He was unsure whether she was being brutally honest or attempting to cut him down a peg hoping to not let this influx of praise go to his head. The only way Samuel was going to be able to reassert dominance in this partnership was to beat the archeologist at her own game. This of course would mean digging into a newfound wound of hers with a calculating level of tact and deception.

"Your abilities are impressive as well," the priest remarked. "Deciphering the Anubisath's origins is no easy feat. There is much I can learn about from your own travels and experiences. You already have proven yourself adept in combat but I am more curious to learn what else lies beneath."

The archeologist smirked and once more took a proud pose by slamming her fists into her hips and puffing her chest pompously.

"I like your style Sammy," she countered. "I'll make Brann wish he invited this _animal_ alongside him. Give a girl a little room to work and I'll gladly show off my skills."

" _Show off_?" Inquired Samuel with a slightly raised eyebrow. He reminisced to a few moments earlier when Mira was examining the markings atop the Anubisath and went in for the crippling blow. "I believe they refer to that in the wild as _presenting_."

Samuel casually took the reins of his horse and walked towards the temple entrance without so much as a look back. Had he cared to watch the archeologist's reaction, he may have witnessed clouds of steam pouring through her ears as a mix of anger and embarrassment washed over her otherwise unflinching expression. Though he couldn't hold back a smile of his own. There was something very interesting about Mira and while he was focused on solving the mystery of the Forsaken priest, perhaps he would allow some time to dig deeper past the surface of this surprisingly interesting young woman.

 _The Temple of Ahn'Qiraj_

 _Silithis_

The walls of this subterranean and wretched temple appeared as they were once living. Decayed bits of sinew and circular patches of grey husks line the entirety of this circular path. Wrinkled sacks of ancient silithid breeding chambers dangled off the walls. Dozens of holes smaller holes along the ground dug further through the deepest etches of this cavity where some of the smaller qiraji insects used for safe travel. It was almost as if they were traveling through the very veins of a living monument than a titan-forged structure. The Old God's influence weighed heavily within these halls. Though its defeat was secured years ago, its ever-lingering presence continued to permeate the air.

Samuel and the others had traversed these tunnels for a few hours. While most preferred a simple torch in their hands to provide ambient light, the priest instead chose to cast a simple light incantation atop the head of his golden mace and left it secured to his waist while hanging harmlessly along his leg. Samuel was being extra cautious. If something dangerous were to approach, he would rather have his hands free to aid him in battle rather than keep a lit torch handicapping his combat prowess.

Junior Archeologist Ferd was the only one to not join them on their descent. He opted to stay behind with the horses and wagon for the time being. As soon as they found suitable grounds to establish a camp, they would be relaying the supplies though without the help of their beasts of burden. The horses outright refused to enter the confines of the temple. They had an intrinsic sense for danger and knew full well it was safer out here than down there.

The sun had been well passed set at this point though none of them could actually view and confirm it. They had delved into the deepest depths of these ancient caverns with no signs of stopping. The priest was poised to find what he was searching for. Fortunately, he had procured a map drawn by an adventurer who stood before the dreaded Old God C'Thun which would lead this harrowing group straight to his chamber.

"How much further Samuel?" The young priest yawned.

Though he would normally dismiss such shallow behavior, Samuel reacted calmly and instead glanced at the map once more. They have been travelling for quite some time and even the priest himself was starting to feel the swell of fatigue clawing at him.

"According to my calculations," he carefully spoke. "In another fifty paces or so this path should come to an end and – "

"Look!"

The archeologist's boisterous announcement drew everyone's immediate attention. She bolted up the path with feverish delight and no regard for any potential threats lurking about. The hefty survival pack strapped to her back with all of her personal supplies didn't even slow her down. Mira stopped just at the end at nearly the exact count of steps Samuel had initially estimated. As the others approached, the archeologist turned towards them with a glistening smile and a warm greeting.

"We're here!"

The priest joined Mira at the end of the insectoid carved tunnels where it opened to a flatter and architecturally sound chamber. Marble tiles revealed themselves underneath the dried and hideous mucus like path. The walls were dull and grey. Each block of stone was oddly carved into unique shapes rather than uniform squares and rectangles. A lightless sconce was covered with a thick layer of dust and sat dully along the furthest wall.

Without any hesitation, the archeologist moved forward. She placed her torch into the dirty metal framework which immediately revealed a gigantic portrait of a large scarab carved into a flat stone plate just above. A lightless opening to the east bends further into the dark temple.

"This must be it," Samuel confirmed while pointing confidently with his right hand. "Just through his path will lead us right to – "

"Ye don't mean?" The elder Prospector gasped.

The priest sternly nodded.

"C'Thun's chamber."

The air grew thick with an ominous glaze washing over them. This temple has remained empty for years and now it was being invaded by some unwelcomed interlopers yearning for knowledge. Samuel took a deep breath and weighed out the logical outcomes. With no traces of the qiraji left within the ruins or temple and a scant few silithid plaguing the outskirts of this land it was safe to assume that everything was as it should be. The priest prayed that they would not find any unwelcomed surprises. Of all the things he loathed most in life, surprises were nearly at the top of the list.

"Let's go."

The archeologist followed directly alongside Samuel. She had left her torch behind in order to keep the chamber exit lit should they require a hovel to work. Their shoulders brushed against one another on occasion but neither paid it any special mind. They walked down the narrow path for only a few paces before a wide opening towards the right side called their attention. It glistened with a faint light almost as if calling out to them personally.

A sharp tightness clawed against the priest's robes as they neared the corner. He turned and immediately found the source to be Mira's hand clenching the collar of his wrists. Samuel was curious to note that even someone as rowdy and unwavering as the archeologist could still succumb to fear when it presented itself. However, upon lifting his gaze and hoping to confirm his hypothesis, the priest saw no fear in her eyes: only the unbridled clutch of anticipation.

Samuel took one final deep breath as they turned the corner. A wide set of stairs led downward over one hundred feet and revealed a gargantuan chamber. Its roof must have peaked over two hundred feet from where they stood and yet still seem deeply buried within the crust of Azeroth. Columns were lined along the entire perimeter each with empty sconces in-between. At the furthest end, two scarab gongs stood at the top of a small platform before a short flight of stairs. An ominous black altar sat between them.

At the very center of this massive lied the unmoving husk of the dreaded Old God itself. Its greyed flesh was hardened and dull. Dozens of brittle and lifeless tentacles of various shapes, sizes, and thickness were strewn about its main body; some had been severed, others still firmly attached. Spikes protruded around the rim of its giant maw in the vague shape of teeth. A few slits near the base of the beast's form housed several sharp fangs of their own. Washed blue orbs surrounded its main body stared lifeless at the group. C'Thun had been battered and beaten into submission. It had remained undisturbed until this very moment.

"Perfect," whispered Samuel.

He tried to hold back his delight but only a mere fragment of it managed to seep through. The priest continued his descent with Mira following directly beside him. As soon as he reached the end of the flight of stairs, Samuel turned towards the others who remained unmoving at the very sight of the defeated Old God before them.

"We shall make camp here and use this chamber as our preliminary base of operations."

"Say what?!" Gehn spat. "Yee cannot be serious lad?!"

The priest's expression remained unchanged. He bore through the elder dwarf through the lenses of his glistening golden eyes and professed the seriousness of his intentions once more.

"Why would this be a problem?" Samuel rhetorically posed. He hoped answer Gehn back with a simple question would trivialize his concerns even further. "This is the ideal location to conduct my research. I would lose half a day on backtracking alone should we make our base outside of the temple."

"I dinnea what cockamamie idea you have in than thin head of yers," the prospector fired back. "But ye won't be seein' me sleepin' soundly down here next to that blasted hell spawn!"

"I think he's right," commented Rylie. The young mage shivered where she stood and clutched her slender arms tightly. "This place gives me the creeps. I don't think I'd be able to rest within a hundred miles of this thing after seeing it in person."

"Don't be scared Rylie," comforted the young priest. He wrapped his arm around her firigid shoulder and pulled her closely into his chest. "There is nothing to fear. Samuel is one of the finest priests in the whole of Azeroth and has already succeeded in defeating another Old God."

Melchoir turned towards the priest with a wide grin.

"If he believes it is safe then there is nothing to worry about."

"Yer all nuts!" Gehn finished while stomping his foot loudly. "I'd rather lay atop the Great Forge while the King be workin' than spend another second in this damned place!"

"Suit yourself," shrugged the priest. He casually walked back up the steps and faced the dwarf directly. "You may return with Ferd at the entrance and being funneling our supplies. We will begin immediately."

Samuel pressed the rolled map directly into the Prospector's chest.

"This will lead you back to the surface. It took approximately three and a half hours to venture down here. I imagine it should take no more than eight hours for you to return with the first set of supplies."

Gehn nearly exploded out of his boots upon hearing his new orders/

"Ye expect me to come back to this cursed place in a single trip?!"

The priest paused for a moment and went through the calculations silently in his head.

"You're right," he nodded. "Better make it twelve."

Samuel didn't even bother to witness the elder dwarf's ghastly response. A fit of dwarvish explicative erupted from within his thick lips as the priest descended the stairs once more. Samuel placed his own personal travel pack and bedroll at the base and retrieved his quill and vial of ink from the pockets of the leather book bindings. He approached the lifeless husk of the Old God and immediately opened his tome up to the first blank page.

"Hey Sam!" Called the archeologist. She was already halfway done with building her own sleeping arrangements before priest's sudden actions forced her to stop. "What are you doing?"

The priest slowly stopped and turned to face the voice that had beckoned him. He only gave Mira a brief glance before dipping his quill into the deep vial of black ink and beginning his scribing.

"Hm?" He casually posed without so much as feigning interest as to requiring a response back.

"It's getting pretty late and we've been traveling all day," the archeologist commented. "Don't you want to get a bit of sleep first?"

"Sleep?" Samuel posed with a slightly ajar eyebrow. He turned to face C'Thun's unmoving corpse. Thousands of possibilities began racing through his thoughts. The sheer potential of discovery alone would keep his mind occupied for months on end let alone the trifle amount of time human required to rest and recharge.

"How can one sleep when our work has only just begun?"


	7. Chapter 6

_The Temple of Ahn'Qiraj_

 _Silithis_

Samuel hunched over the desk overlooking his tome while transcribing the key notes from half a dozen sprawled pieces of parchment. Seven days had already passed since they first entered their chamber and it was only now that the priest believed they were starting to make some real progress. Today's test regarded the first ever point to point contact with the Old God's decaying husk and there were too many details to decipher all at once.

As soon as they neared C'Thun's body, the priest immediately began hearing a faint churning coming from within. He was not entirely sure what to make of it but the sounds uttered appeared to be gargling gibberish akin to the final noises of a drowning victim. If Samuel could somehow link the sounds together with those written and perhaps uttered by the dwarf that was killed by the Forsaken priest then this place may very well be the gateway into that unspeakable power.

"Here," said the archeologist while placing another piece of parchment atop of the pile. "It looks as though the noise had stopped about an hour ago. I jotted down what I could describe but it's been pretty silent since."

The priest nodded and took the parchment in his hand. He immediately flipped back into the previous pages of his tome where he transcribed the notes from the Explorers Leaguers' journal. Samuel placed the parchment on top of second page and began scanning the document for any consistencies between the two. Though Mira may not look academic from the outside, she was rather quite adept and transcribing language and sounds to scholar's accuracy.

"This is good," the priest commented. "Thank you, Mira."

"What are partner's for?" She replied with a smile.

The archeologist continued to lurk over the Samuel's work. It was as if he were in his own world bound by the constraints of his own imagination. Normally that would have bothered the priest but Mira had proven herself to be a worthy associate. She was keen on knowing what to ask but especially, what not to. It was a welcomed addition compared to the love birds on the other side of the room.

As soon as the dwarves returned with the initial supplies, they had essentially kept to themselves. Gehn and Ferd both agreed while this was certainly the expedition of a lifetime, they would be happy reading the abridged version from their superior's notes. They only stayed down here long enough to enjoy the supplies then would make their daily trek back to the surface to feed the horses and get some sleep in the wagon.

On the other hand, Melchior would at least stop by from time to time to ask a question regarding the status but Samuel his answers vague. If the young priest wished to learn anything about this assignment he was more than welcome to take a seat beside him. What the Archbishop saw in this child was beyond Samuel's comprehension, not that he cared to delve into that matter any further. At the very least, they kept their fornicating activities outside of the perimeters of the camp and far enough away to where the priest could not directly hear it though they reeked of each other's sweat and fluids moments after consummating.

"Say, I've been wondering," Mira carefully opened. "How come out of all of the notes you've been taking during this entire expedition, I've only seen your write less than four pages in that tome?"

The archeologist was bold but clearly observant. If it were anyone else in this party, Samuel wouldn't have even acknowledged the question. However, Mira was a great asset and aided his continued research so he didn't mind placating a few innocent questions while he worked.

"This tome contains the breadth of the knowledge I have collected throughout my entire life," Samuel casually answered. "Much like our own memories, some of the insignificant details become lost with time. I cannot transcribe every breath I take but it is the moments where it is taken away that makes it worth remembering."

"Woah," the archeologist gasped. Her eyes widened as she continued to leer over the priest. "And you've had that tome your entire life?"

The priest nodded while continuing the scan the index of words and sounds hoping to find a match.

"Since I was old enough to read and write, all of my most precious thoughts and memories have been transcribed within these pages."

"Really?" Mira smiled while pulling back. She gave the abundance of rings attached to her left ear a gentle flick. The glistening sounds of metal clanging against one another was almost harmonious. "Just like my earrings then."

The archeologist was proving her cunning mind with every conversation. She was very adept at reading between the lines and not wasting any unneeded breaths to confirm suspicions. There was something quite worldly about her that Samuel admired.

"It is my most treasured possession."

That was the first time the priest had ever uttered those words out loud. It used to go without saying that his tome was the most valuable artifact the priest owned based on his mere descriptions and demeanors while carrying it. However, Mira was able to extract that information from him with such little effort. It would appear her skills in excavation were not simply limited to plots of land.

"Wait," Samuel gasped. He quickly folded the page of the parchment in half and isolated the word that had caught his immediate attention and placed it atop his tome. "Take a look at this."

The archeologist slid over to the other side of the desk and pulled up a chair beside him. She plopped down pressed her shoulder alongside Samuel's as they leered into the pages together.

"Say this phrase you transcribed.," the priest ordered while his cloth gauntleted finger pointed to the words in question.

"Yool," she started slowly at first. "Yool-wee ack-ook."

"Here!" Samuel proudly pointed shifting his finger from her note to his tome. "Look at this phrase scribed in the dwarf's journal."

They both peered at the words with great interest.

 _Uulwi ak'uq_

"Hold on," Mira gasped. "Why is it written like that?"

"No specific words like this exist in the common tongue nor in any of the other mortal languages," the priest answered. "However – "

"It sounds just like those garbling's inside of the Old God's husk," finished the archeologist.

"That sound," Samuel stated while pointing to the beginning of the phrase. "I've seen it before."

The priest began rifling through the early pages of his tome. There was one particular moment in question where he recalled having a discussion about those unique phrases.

"It was at a tavern in Dalaran where we celebrated our safe return from Ulduar," Samuel started. "I was having a discussion with one of my allies regarding our final battle. Upon Yogg-Saron's defeat, it began speaking to us. Not pleading precisely, but rather, issuing a warning."

He continued to scan through his tome searching for the moment in question.

"Forgive me," he requested while carefully scanning each and every written line. "I had documented the statements of several witnesses during our battle so I am unsure where exactly this phrase came up."

"How come you didn't transcribe that encounter personally?"

The archeologist raised a good point but also a sensitive issue. It was hard enough to take the praise and accolade for being a part of Yogg-Saron's demise but if most people knew the truth, perhaps they wouldn't paint him in such a high light. It wasn't as if the priest truly cared how others saw him but for some reason, he still had minor reservations revealing this piece of information.

"Unfortunately," Samuel solemnly began. "I did not witness the Old God's defeat. It had rendered me unconscious during the battle. The entire encounter is still a blur in my mind but it still pains me that I was unable to experience Yogg's demise with my own eyes."

The priest shrugged and continued searching.

"Pity, it was a moment worth dying for."

"How can you say that?"

Mira's word struck an unfamiliar chord. Samuel couldn't help but lift his eyes from the page and glare into the archeologist's cold green eyes.

"You shouldn't be so lax with your own life," pleaded Mira. "You are lucky to survive at all. What if you had died instead?"

"At that moment," the priest grimly stated. "I thought I did."

Samuel had a certain logic to life that many did not appear to agree with. Any encounter that one could walk away from with their life in tact was a learning experience. Failure to acknowledge that defied all basic logic. It wasn't that he was being crass with his own well-being. He was simply stating a fact that logically made sense to him. The archeologist's continued silence was a sign that she appeared to understand that fact as well. She certainly had a fascinating mind underneath that vividly vulgar style and attire. The subject was dropped as quickly as it rose with both sides conceding to move to more important matters.

"So," she timorously began. There was a heavy aura of curiosity coated atop every syllable she uttered. "These are your notes from Ulduar?"

The priest sternly nodded.

"Would you care to read some of them?" He graciously offered. "I'm sure they'll be of some interest to you."

This was rather uncharacteristic of Samuel to allow anyone else to partake in his carefully recorded memories. He initially hoped this would bring a bit of levity to the recently darkened mood. With all of the assistance Mira has provided, perhaps a little more insight would prove useful in opening her mind and allowing her own insights to procure some useful logic for them both. Of course, the priest would be sure to carefully select the pages in question.

"I – uh," she stammered while pulling away slightly. "That's okay."

Samuel did not expect that kind of response. It was the first time he had seen and experienced any semblance of reservation on the archeologist's part.

"Very well."

The priest rifled through the final page of notes regarding their celebration. As soon as he caught wind of the Old God's name scribbled several times across separate lines, Samuel knew he had found precisely what he had been looking for.

"Here," he pointed. "It was Yogg-Saron's final words."

The archeologist leered closely. Without hesitation, their cheeks immediately brushed together. A warmth unlike anything he had ever experienced graced his flesh. Samuel's nerves quivered at the point of contact. Before he could decipher their meaning, the archeologist quickly pulled back and retained a fair distance.

"Sorry," she faintly spoke. "I didn't mean –"

"Think nothing of it," the priest coolly countered. Without a second thought, his began uttering the Old God's last message. "Your fate is sealed. The end of days is finally upon you and ALL who inhabit this miserable little seedling."

Samuel took a breath and continued transcribing the rest of his notes.

"Allegedly, it began speaking gibberish," stated the priest. "At least, that's what we had original thought. However, take a look at these sounds I had everyone verify before logging this entry."

It took some time to properly scribe the words but more was spent getting them to actually agree about what was spoken in the first place. When it finally came down to it, Samuel was able to coax a single collective phrase from them and made sure to write it down as best as he could.

" _Oohlwee, eyefis hahlahs gawg_."

"More gibberish?" Mira curiously posed.

"Take a look at the first word one more carefully," he requested while keeping his finger locked along the perimeter of those seven letters. "It is eerily similar to the gargles bellowing with C'Thun's husk as well as those written by the dwarf in his final moments."

"Can it be a coincidence?"

The archeologist execrably posed a proper question. While she didn't want to rain on their collective train of thought, it was important to justify each and every clue before categorizing it as fact.

"Possibly," the priest concluded. "I could easily dismiss it if this was documented by the Old God's alone. However, the fact that the dwarf had written something very similar leads me to believe it should not be ignored."

"There's no way you could prove they're related," added Mira. "It's not like they're speaking the same – "

Lightning snapped within the confines of their collective and curious minds. They both immediately slammed their fists upon the desk and lifted themselves to a standing position. Mira's eyes never left the priest nor did his venture past her widened emerald irises. They immediately turned in unison towards the Old God and uttered their collective conclusion simultaneously.

"Language!"

Samuel collected himself and immediately returned back to his tome. He scrawled through the pages until he found himself returning to the memory of his first encounter with a being known as a faceless one.

"I knew it," the priest surely uttered. "One of Yogg-Saron's minions had uttered something to us before we engaged it."

His finger landed upon the phrase in question.

"Right here," he stated. "Shur'nab... shur'nab... Yogg-Saron!"

What was initially dismissed as a the idle drones of maddening beast had now been revealed as critical clue in solving this revolving mystery.

"It wasn't clearing its throat or choking through a breath," Samuel added. "The creature was attempting to communicate with us in the only way it knew how. Even the Old Gods have a tongue that is not known to any mortal being on Azeroth. If we could translate but one of these phrases the implications alone would be transcend the boundaries of our current insight."

The nerves in the priests hands began to tingle. He hadn't experienced this rush of rejuvenation since his days as an adventurer. All of the pieces of the puzzle had been scattered on the table before them. Before he could put any of them together, the archeologist revealed her immediate understanding of the current collection of facts.

"It can't be!" Mira countered. Her stance shifted and she immediately reached for the first weapon within her grasp. A logging axe may have been a fearsome foe to a tree but against an Old God, it would have to suffice given her firearms were on the other chamber. "That means –"

"C'Thun," the priest gravely spoke. "Is not dead."

This discovery goes well beyond the boundaries of what Samuel had initially hoped to discover. This knowledge would be greatly coveted by the Alliance and Horde alike. It was with their combined efforts that brought C'Thun's alleged defeat but the Old God did not perish on that day. He had merely fallen back asleep and awaited the moment when he would soon wake again.

The archeologist rushed forward with axe in tow. She gave no regard to her own well

"Mira, stop!" Beckoned Samuel as he rose from the desk once more. "What are you planning?!"

"What does it look like?!" She snapped. "I'm going to take care of this thing before it wakes up and tries to take care of us!"

The priest foolishly reached out hoping the mere gesture would get her to stop but it was too late. Mira's axe came thundering down atop one of the thickest tentacles binding the husk and floor together as one. Samuel immediately braced himself but could not dare to look away. The archeologist continued to hack at Old God's appendage with feverish haste.

"You see that lad?!" Gehn scorned while rushing over to the priest's desk. "I told ye that thing was no good! Now you've got us trapped in here like a buncha marmots!"

The Prospector turned and immediately started unleashing a gout of furious disgust towards his superior.

"What do ya think yer doin' lass?!" He pleaded. "Are ye actually tryin' ta wake it up?!"

"No!" Mira snapped. Her axe continued to crack against the hardened flesh of the greyed tentacle. Each strike inched its way deeper into the rotting appendage. "I'm trying to – "

The bladed edge struck the Old God one last time before embedding itself into it nearly a foot deep. All of the color immediately washed away from the archeologist's face. She carefully removed the axe and examined the newly created wound.

"SAM!" She desperately called out. "Look at this!"

The priest did not need to hear anything else. He quickly rushed to Mira's side as did the dwarves. Even Melchior and his lover were drawn towards the scene. They all surrounded the archeologist as she unveiled her latest discovery.

"Here," she pointed deep within the gash. "Right at the very bottom."

Samuel nodded and knelt down close to point of impact. He carefully parted the wound to get a closer look. There was a distinct discoloration of the tentacle's inner layers. The outer husk was dark grey and had almost a charcoal like consistency. After another deep breath, the priest carefully slid his fingers into the gash. The tip of his index and middle fingers finally reached the bottom. Samuel pressed firmly against it and was not met with the hardened exterior he had expected. Instead, his fingers bounced off of it akin to the flesh of a ripened peach.

"What," stammered the young priest looming with great interest. "What is it?"

The priest pulled his hand out and examined it carefully. The tips of his two fingers had become stained with a translucent amethyst colored substance.

"It's," Samuel opened almost fumbling through his own tongue. "It's regenerating."

Everyone erupted in a collective tirade of confusion and fear. The priest ignored ensuing conversations as he stood up and brought the substance to his nose for further inspection. He took one quick whiff and immediately regretted it. This liquid reeked something foul the likes of which would take millennia to recreate. Samuel rubbed the substance against his thumb to check the consistency. The fluid soaked through the thin layers of his cloth gauntlets and soon made contact with the bare flesh underneath.

Flames erupted against the priest's fingertips. He pulled back and shouted in pain but hear no sound escape his lips. A shadow exploded before his eyes. The entire room had grown dim. He could no longer see even the bridge of his nose. Samuel shouted hoping someone would hear. The entire area was devoid of all light and sound. Not even his own rising heartbeat could be heard outside of his chest. When the full magnitude of silence finally settled in, that's when the priest could finally hear it. A voice calling out to him from beyond.

 _Uulwi ak'uq_

Samuel's eyes widened. That same exact phrase they had uncovered earlier was now reverberating in his head from an unknown source. Over and over it uttered those garbled words as if they were daggers attempting to penetrate the priest's mind. His senses ceased to function. All he could hear was that maddening voice calling to him.

A crack of light sparked between Samuel's eyes. He immediately reached for his gauntlet and flung the piece of armor off of his hand. In an instant, the darkness dissipated. The familiar sight of C'Thun's chamber had returned and with it the continued bickering of those around him.

"This is it," the priest spoke. He clutched the removed gauntlet and almost found himself smiling. "The key."

The heated conversation began dying down. They turned their attention towards Samuel as he gazed deeply into his soiled piece of armor. The priest was flooded with hundreds of scenarios. On top of the Old God discovery, Samuel may have found the very portal in which he could unlock the mystery of that frightening power. Every moment before this was mere the prologue. This is where the true journey would begin. The priest almost salivated as he initiated a formal plan within his mind.

"Mira," he called while walking back towards his desk. "Can you extract more of the Old God's flesh from below?"

"Yes…? I mean, no," the archeologist hesitated. "Well, probably. This thing's as tough as a siege engine. It'll take some time depending on how much you want."

Samuel took note of her statement as he tossed the gauntlet on top of the desk. He reached into his backpack and procured four empty vials about the size of a fist as well as a short slicing knife. The priest placed the bottles on the desk, reached over with the blade and sliced the soiled tips clean off. He carefully grasped the removed cloth pieces with his armored hand and placed them inside of a vial. Once that was securely stored, Samuel placed the gauntlet back upon his hand leaving the tips still bare and seized the other three vials into his grip while making his way back to the others.

"Here," the priest casually said while offering the vials to Mira. "Fill these up with as much flesh and fluid as can be filled. That should suffice for now."

"Okay," nodded the archeologist while taking possession of the glass bottles. "This shouldn't take too long. I'll – "

"Don't," warned Samuel cutting her off mid thought. He stared fiercely while pressing the rims of his glasses up and secured them at the top of his nose. "Allow any of it to touch your bare flesh."

The archeologist took note of his dire tone and expression. Thankfully, she still had brown leather gloves wrapped around her otherwise tough hands but there were many other parts of body that were willfully exposed that could be potentially hazardous to the priest's warning.

"Got it," Mira acknowledging returning her own serious gaze right back at him.

"Yer all nuts!" The prospector shouted. "If any of yee had any brains left in ya, yee'd leave that stuff right were ya found it and go on home!"

"Absolutely not," Samuel sternly replied. "This may perhaps be one of the most profound discoveries of our generation. Why would we squander such an opportunity based on mere fear alone?"

"Ya dinnea what yer messing with lad!" Pleaded Gehn. "This place, that thing are the stuff of nightmares. Who would ever willin'ly embrace the darkness no knowing what's inside?!"

"You're right," the priest nonchalantly answered. "I do not know. No one does; which is precisely why we must continue. In the face of great adversity, there must always be a first to conquer."

"He's right Gehn!" Mira added. She was already two vials deep with plenty of the Old God's flesh and fluids swimming within each and already starting on the third. "We've already come this far. We can't leave now. There is still so many questions and we've got some of the answers right here along with one of the best mind's in Azeroth to decipher it. Isn't that what the Explorers League is all about."

"What would a human know about explorin'?!" The prospector snidely retorted. "The League's always been about preserving knowledge for the betterment of dwarven kind. What could a wild card like you ever hope to accomp– ?"

"How dare you?!"

The entire chamber fell menacingly silent. Samuel had no idea what had come over him. Normally he'd never let his anger slip passed his expression but for some reason, he felt compelled to speak. Whether it was the dwarf's unwarrantedly harsh tone or the archeologist's great compliment prior, something within the priest begged him to speak up.

"Mira has established herself far more useful on this expedition than I imagine you have ever put in in your countless years of service," Samuel viciously countered. While he could not corroborate the facts of his previous statement, the dire look upon Gehn's face told him he was blindly reaching either. "In spite of all things, she has conducted herself professionally and her insight has proven to be invaluable to my efforts which is more than I can say for your lot."

"To hell with both of ya then!" Barked the prospector. "I didn't come all the way here just ta be insulted."

Gehn rushed towards the remains of his meager possessions and quickly rolled them into his stocky arms.

"Come along Ferd!" He ordered while juggling his belongings into his chest. "We're leavin' these mongrels behind to ta get eatin' up by whatever dang blasted hell they're tryin' ta wake."

"But Gehn," the younger dwarf begged. "Aren't you being too hasty? Mira's our expedition leader."

"She's no leader of mine!" Shouted the prospector. His ensuing anger caused him to continually fumble the last few pieces of his gear. Gehn nearly doused himself with half a waterskin trying to pack everything up hastily. "I can't count how many times has she brought me to the brink of death. Brann is the only one I follow and I'd bet every last hair on me beard that he'd be right beside me tryin' to leave while I still have me mind right."

The priest dejectedly shook his head and slowly walked back towards his desk as the bickering continued. He would raise no objections to the dwarf's request to leave. Their idle presence was not something he would miss.

"Sam!" Mira called. She raised the three vials full of various sized bits and translucent purple fluid proudly. The pithy few insults hurled by her cohorts seemed to have little effect on her over mood. "All finished."

"Excellent," nodded Samuel. "Bring them here and we shall begin –"

"Don't you go and start any more trouble," Gehn angrily begged while stumbling up the stairs and towards the exit. "Not until I've kissed this damned place goodbye!"

The dwarf finally reached the top while Ferd trailed behind having just barely reached the bottom of the stairs with his belongings in tow. Gehn turned around and slapped the palm of his left hand into the bicep of his right and shook his tightened fist in a mocking gesture.

"Good riddance ya – !"

A faint tremor silenced the prospector outright. The hallway echoed with an unfamiliar quaking noise. Gehn slowly turned his head and faced the exit.

"Did ya feel that?"

The priest shook his head. He was uncertain about the dwarf's current claims but anything that would have shut him up so soundly was almost welcomed. It wasn't until the immense rumbling that Gehn had warned them about started to filter into the chamber that Samuel started to regret those thoughts.

"Somethin's com –"

"ATTACK!"

The dwarf wailed in agony as an unseen spear pierced through his chest. Blood vomited from the wound as the reverberating force launched his stocky body backwards. Gehn landed violently between the younger dwarf and priest. His body cracked the marble floor leaving a crater in its wake. Light faded from. The lengthy weapon continued to stand upright as an intimidating reminder of how quickly one's luck could change.

Samuel's gaze darted upward as a stampede of blood and armor barreled through the opening. Almost a dozen heavily armed adversaries stood at the top of the stairs. They represented nearly all of the races Azeroth had to offer from both the Horde and Alliance alike. Axes, blades, and staves were gripped menacingly in their tightened fists. Donned with dark purple robes and heavy plate, this uniquely attired insurgents all had one thing they carried in common. A black tabard hung from their necks bearing the symbol of a steel hammer enclosed in a spiked circle with crimson wings protruding forth.

 _The Twilight's Hammer?!_

Merely thinking that name again sent a wave of memories flooding through the priest's thoughts. They had crossed paths ones before in the deepest depths of Ulduar facing off against a gargantuan beast known as Vezax. These fanatics were obsessed with the Old Gods and bringing forth the end of the world. Samuel attempted to prepare for such a contingency but according to his research, the cult had not been seen in these parts of Kalimdor since the end of the war against the qiraji. Their presence here was most alarming to say the least but the priest wasn't afforded the time to solve this mystery as one of their own was just murdered before them and they were certainly next.

The lead orc stepped forward. His ravenous spiked plates commanded an intimidating presence. He raised his large, double-bladed axe confidently over his head before pointing it downward straight at Samuel's chest.

"Kill them!" The orc shouted. "Kill them all!"

Stone trembled as the Twilight's Hammer cult began their collective descent down the stairs. Blood burned through the priest's veins as that familiar numbing feeling quickly coated his nerves. By current counts, they were outnumbered two to one on headcount alone but going by Samuel's personal judgement, he was the only one among his allies fit enough to do combat with them which heavily disfavored their odds of survival

"SAM!" The archeologist cried while rushing over to him while continuing to cling desperately to the glass vials closely tucked into her chest.

"Mira!" The priest shouted. He threw his arm back to further dissuade her from approaching when suddenly, a gout of hideous black energy came roaring overhead. Samuel's heart sank as his throat went completely dry watching the bolt of fel malevolence careening straight towards the archeologist.

"MIRA!"

Marble exploded in a violent tuft of ancient dust. The priest's chest tightened. Clouds of debris quickly dissipated. The archeologist was lying on her side next to a newly forged dark crater and coughing heavily. While he was immediately relieved to see that the spell had missed it's intended target, Samuel's eyes widened as spotted all of the collected living samples of the Old God spilt along the floor sprinkled with shards of broken glass.

The priest tightened his fist and dashed towards his desk. Although the samples were ruined, there was something much more precious the priest was about to lose if he let his guard down. Samuel's arm darted forward inches away from reaching the table. A dark shadow loomed above. The priest caught a glimpse of the deadly meteor headed right for him and quickly pulled back.

Wood splintered into a chaotic array as the orc's axe split the desk in two. Samuel's body was violently pelted with broken slivers as he leapt backwards to put further distance between him and his adversary. All of his research had been destroyed. Even his tome had been launched far out of his reach towards the western wall of the room. It was the only thing he coveted enough to risk his life for but as of now, it would be a fool's gambit to pursue it further.

"Mira!" The priest called while seizing a tight grip upon his golden mace. "Gather the others and get out of here, now!"

Despite his agitated state, Samuel's orders were still delivered with a calming sense of reassurance. He could not let his emotions slip and convey anything other than confidence at this state.

"What?!" Stammered the archeologist while hastily returning to her feet. "How can we leave -?!"

"Just do it!"

Samuel's tone conveyed not an ounce of remorse or flexibility. He thrust his mace forward and channeled a funnel of light from his open palm over its head.

"How?!" Protested Mira while rushing towards her belongings. "They're blocking the exit!"

"Leave that to me."

The priest's eyes began to glow with a divine radiance. Nearly all of the members of the Twilight's Hammer soon surrounded him. Only the sole troll warlock remained at the top of the stairs. Samuel's expression did not flinch. While he was not well versed in hand to hand combat, he didn't need to defeat these trespassers; only distract them long enough to make an escape.

Out of the corner of his eye, Samuel caught the archeologist snatching up her backpack and rushing the dwarf, mage, and young priest near the eastern edge of the staircase. Rylie appeared the most frightened of them all. She refused to let go of Melchior which hampered his ability to personally engage and perhaps even provide some assistance. Thankfully, the priest had already considered this scenario into his plan.

The Twilight's Hammer cult loomed in closer. They were each within a few large paces of Samuel brandishing their blades with ominous glee. The warlock was channeling another unholy mass of fel-kissed flames from the Nether. Everyone below was exposed as the troll leered in with her hungry yellow eyes and prepared to fire.

Light snapped off the priest's palm as he thrust his hand downward and slammed his hand onto the ground. Golden runes sprang up underneath the warlock's feet. She let out a brief gasp before being consumed by a magnificent column of holy fire. The searing flames burned the air in the troll's very throat as her charred robes and skin collapsed to the ground and tumbled down the stairs bouncing lifelessly along the way.

"GO!"

The others didn't need another hint as they frantically made their way back up the stairs. A few of the Twilight's Hammer cultists noticed this ruse and attempted to break off from the main group surrounding Samuel. The rest only hand death in their eyes as they eagerly rushed with their weapons raised hoping to spill fresh blood.

Sparks of divine radiance channeled through the priest's mace. He immediately rose from his knees and thrust his golden weapon on high. A dome of holy light exploded from his piercing stance and swelled over the charging cultists. Their horrific cries echoed into the chamber as the searing energy blasted over their armor and skin, violently driving them back and crashing against an unwelcoming marble floor.

"Hurry!

Samuel carefully waded through the fallen intruders. That spell wasn't enough to end the fight outright. It was only meant to daze the cultists and buy them enough time to escape. Despite his skill, the priest knew he could not take them all on at once with such murderous intent in their eyes. Had a few key factors played in his favor it could have been possible but right now, Samuel was only concerned with escaping this room with his life and would deal with the consequences when better terms presented themselves.

The rush of adrenaline certainly helped move the priest up the stairs quickly but it didn't stop him from panting madly. He watched as Ferd, Melchior, and Rylie darted into the hallways and fully exited the Old God's chamber with the archeologist trailing just a few steps behind. Samuel turned his gaze back into the room and watched as the startled cultists began regaining their composure. They would soon be on their feet and returning the chase once more.

"Let's go - !"

"Hold it!" Mira shouted after eying the priest once over. She turned and made her way back towards the stairs. "We can't leave yet!"

"Where are you going?!" Samuel bewilderingly cried while seizing her bicep. "Mira!"

The archeologist easily broke free of his grip and raced back into the chamber. She wouldn't have a prayer's chance of making it back alive as some of the cultists had started to return to their feet. The priest stared in awe of her bold actions. This was not calculated in any of the scenarios he had envisioned. Mira was essentially throwing her life away for some needless trinkets. Her stubbornness knew no bounds. Listening to reason was not in the cards. Logic was the key motivating factor in all of Samuel's decision making. If he stayed any longer, he too would more than likely face a similar fate. However, even with that glaring danger staring him in the face, a part of him foolishly wanted to chase after her.

Samuel shook his head and made a break for the exit. He ran through the temple without a single look back. Abandoning the archeologist sent writhing pain churning within his bowels but at the end of the day, it was the right decision to ensure maximum survival. The priest offered a silent prayer hoping both luck and skill would be on her side. It just barely overcome the rampant curses that muddles his thoughts about her gravely insipid actions.

The insectoid tunnel came into view. Fortunately, the others were no longer in sight either. Samuel could hear muddled footsteps echoing from beyond and eagerly listened as they soon faded. Another thundering was approaching him from behind. The cultists were making their way back through here. Something snapped at the priest's mind to turn around and at least verify Mira's fate. However, his logical drive had taken over as he ran ahead without further delay.

Ancient silithid dust kicked off Samuel's boots as he raced through the tunnel. Dried webbing along the sides and curves of the wall were reduced to ashes as his powerful steps slammed against the nearby ground. This long winding path was a death trap the longer the priest stayed in here. He needed to find a fork that would at least delay the approaching cultists and perhaps, even split them up furthering his chances for survival.

"WAIT!"

The priest immediately halted. Such an action defied all logic but he felt compelled to do so. The Twilight's Hammer clan are known more for their brute over their brains. Calling out and taunting their opponent would not be too farfetched for them. However, it wasn't their damning voice that drew Samuel's attention. This one was much higher pitched and reeked of desperation.

A tidal wave of relieve enveloped the priest. The archeologist was barreling down the tunnel at a feverish pace with the rest of the cultists trailing behind her. A newfound sense of anger brushed before his eyes. The entire picture had now become clear. Clutched tightly against Mira's chest was Samuel's treasured tome. She had foolishly returned for it ignoring ever order that the priest tried to sway her decision otherwise. His heart clawed at him to hurl an insult but for now, surviving took priority.

Samuel's hand reached out instinctively. Golden radiance was quickly channeled in his palm. If he could pick off a few of the closest ones giving chase, it may cause a snowball effect that could take the whole lot of them down and buy them some time. He carefully aimed his palm at the hungering orc charging at the front of the pack. As he just came within range, a brown blur encapsulated his vision.

Pain rocked the priest's chest. Mira dove straight into his unguarded frame and tackled him into a thick pile of ancient webbing. Samuel released the bolt of holy light from his palm. It exploded just above them and rained down chunks of debris from the wake of the blast. The softened substance immediately gave way to their combined weight and sent them tumbling down a hidden path buried underneath.

The two collectively cried in agony as they descended through the concealed tunnel. Light soon escaped their vision as pieces of the scarred path above filled the tight quarters and sealed the path shut. The priest's robes burned with vehement fury as the rushed through into the unseen darkness below.


	8. Chapter 7

_The Temple of Ahn'Qiraj_

 _Silithis_

The musty air of this lightless pit reeked of ancient death. Rocks and other indiscernible debris poked the priest's fallen body. Another heavy object was sprawled across his chest and abdomen. This one was much softer than the others but was still an uncomfortable and unwelcomed weight that kept his hands pinned. He was almost afraid to move as the lack of light and sound was both a hindrance and advantage to his current predicament.

Every breath Samuel took was painful and labored. If any more of that foul stench entered his lungs he would find himself on the brink of passing out. That was the second highest unwanted scenario though it immediately climbed to the highest now that the priest confirmed he was at least still alive.

There were still too many unknown variables to act hasty. Samuel was content to find he was in minimal pain and proceeded to prepare to survey the rest of his surroundings. He slowly dragged his arm from underneath the unseen debris. Once it was free, the priest summoned a small ball of golden radiance within his palm which immediately illuminated his surroundings.

The walls of this cave were grey and covered in empty silithid husks. It was no larger than twenty feet in diameter and shaped in a crude dome with several small five-foot tall tunnels leading out. A few long dead carcasses were spread out all over the room. Some of the unlucky insects that were unable to escape this hatching area presumably starved to death while their brothers and sisters were murdered.

Samuel grew worried when he couldn't find the archeologist's body amongst the other remnants and rubble. He brought the light in close to examine the object pinning him to the uncomfortable ground where he soon alleviated that concern.

"Mira?" The priest spoke. His voice echoed into the room louder than he anticipated. He took note and said her name much softer next time. "Mira?"

The archeologist laid atop of him. That damned tome which caused this entire mess was still attached by the leather strap over her neck and chest. Erratic breaths pumped out of her lungs. Her body was riddled with minor cuts and scrapes that he could initially see from this precarious vantage point. Mira's choice of attire didn't lend itself in the way of proper armor which is all the more reason to be more careful now that they were trapped in an unknown cave.

Samuel slowly braced himself upon his elbows and gently rolled the archeologist onto her back for further examination. He vigilantly attempted to stay silent has he was still unsure where these sounds were being carried. Thankfully most of the abrasions were minor and weren't deep enough to draw blood. However, there was a dangerously deep gash atop Mira's forehead that was already trailing a thick streak of dried blood over near her right eye.

Golden light washed over the archeologist. The priest placed his blessed hand on top of her wound and begged the channeled benevolence to destroy any outlying diseases that may have been contracted. There was no telling what type of horrid ailments have been marinating in this temple since it has been evacuated. Samuel erred on the side of caution above all else.

Soft moans escaped through Mira's pink lips. Her eyes slowly started to open and were immediately welcomed by a blinding but yet peaceful light. She motioned to speak but was quickly silenced by the attentive priest.

"Lie still," he whispered. "I am almost finished."

Mira nodded without protest. The light was nearly complete mending the wound in its entirety. Samuel remained focused and worked without flinching.

"How bad is it?"

The priest's stern expression conveyed a level of seriousness that appeared to startle her. Instead of answering, Samuel ran his thumb across her now clean forehead where the wound once was.

"All done."

"T-thanks," stuttered the archeologist. She slowly rose to her knees and surveyed the area where the light still touched. "Where are we?"

"I do not know," Samuel replied while shaking his head and standing. "I have a few theories but for now that is not our utmost concern."

"Really?" Mira asked while rising next to the priest. She slowly dusted off the patches of silithid dust and remnants off her body and stared at Samuel curiously. "Then what is?"

"Are you alright?" He confidently asked with little remorse. "Do you have any more pain or injuries that would warrant immediate attention?"

"No," the archeology answered with a bit of a delay. She started stretching and moving around a bit, checking her muscles for any unseen damage that may have been caused. "I think I'm okay thanks –"

The priest seized Mira by the shoulders and pulled her in close. He bore down upon her with his menacing gold eyes.

"Are you out of your mind?!" He scornfully declared through clenched teeth still hoping to remain as quiet as possible. "What were you thinking?!"

The air dried in the archeologist's throat. She stared back at him befuddled that he could speak with such bold malice.

"What are you talking about?!" Mira crudely defended. She was still unsure why he had a sudden change of heart and it showed in her words as the archeologist was barely able to put together a cohesive statement.

"You would foolishly jump into the throws of danger and for what?!" The priest maliciously continued. He reached over and violently ripped the leather tome bindings from her neck. "A trinket of all things?!"

Samuel tossed the book aside. He watched his precious tome skid across the ground for several feet before the thick darkness embraced it and removed it from view.

"But," the archeologist faintly mustered. She could barely keep eye contact with the priest. "You said it was important to you. It was your most valuable possession. I couldn't let those bastards take it from you. I had – "

"You're right," Samuel sternly interrupted. "It is _my_ tome. _My_ possession. And if anyone is going to risk their life for it," he grimly finished. "It's going to be _me_."

Mira sulked where she stood. Her arms trembled and she instinctively clutched them together across her stomach hoping to keep them still.

"I'm," the archeologist hesitated. It was clear that her emotions continued to run rampant without any signs of slowing down. "I'm sorry."

The priest took a deep breath. He believed his message was clear but it was readily apparent that Mira was only listening to the words on the surface. The once proud archeologist looked so meek and fragile in this very moment. Samuel sensed his own reservations seeping to the surface.

"You misunderstand me," the priest declared. "I am not solely upset with your actions but also, with my own."

That statement alone seemed to perk up Mira's winded feelings. Her timid eyes lifted and faced Samuel once more with renewed strength. The priest gently clutched her shoulders once more and drew her in close.

"It is not that I wished to leave my tome behind but rather, I could not justify the risk," he opened. "In that moment, my life was not worth sacrificing. How could I ever ask that of you?"

His tone lightened and with it, so did the archeologist's spirits.

"If you died because of my ignorance," he calmly uttered. "I would never forgive myself."

"Still," Samuel defended. "It was not my intention to make you upset. Truly, I should be showing you my gratitude."

Mira's delicate green eyes began to waver. A smile tickled upon her lips.

"Thank you, Mira," he tenderly spoke. "I am in your debt."

The archeologist's hand slowly ascended upward. Her palm grazed his cheek and cupped it fondly.

"Samuel."

Blood began to swell rapidly in the priest's chest. It too began to rise and start to fill his expression. No matter what order he gave, Samuel could not quell his body's involuntary reaction.

"Where are your glasses?"

The priest let out a heavy sigh of relief. In all of the ensuing confusion, he had completely forgotten they had slipped right off his face. Samuel frantically began to scan the area and the archeologist soon followed.

"How were you able to see anything?" She casually mentioned. Mira's tone had seemingly returned to normal as if the last few moments were completely forgotten. "Can you heal without –"

The archeologist's foot tapped a surprisingly light piece of debris. She bent over to verify her findings and quickly returned to a standing position with the glasses in her grip and a wicked grin plastered on her face.

"Here they are," she brazenly taunted while dancing the frames between her fingers. "Let's see how the world looks through Sammy's eyes."

The priest shot his arm forward.

"Don't!"

It was too late. Mira placed the lenses over her ears and stared back at him with a befuddled look on her face.

"What's going on?" She puzzlingly asked. "I thought it was supposed to be magnified or distorted. I don't see – "

Samuel angrily snatched the glasses from her with great haste. He passed a scornful look before turning slightly and cleaned the lenses between his thumb and forefinger.

"That's because they are not real," he calmly confessed. The priest turned around and thrust the glasses back atop his face without blinking. "They are merely a façade."

"What?" The archeologist looked genuinely puzzled at his statement. Her entire innocent demeanor drained from her face. "What do you mean?"

Samuel was troubled. He never admitted this to anyone before; not even his own mother and twin sister. Though Mira had done well to draw his ire earlier, the priest couldn't help but feel compelled to answer despite every logical circuit in his brain telling him otherwise.

"When I was a child, my father believed I had a learning fallacy," he somberly started. "Despite his great intelligence, he appeared to have issues discerning an imprudent child from a rebellious one."

"You? Rebellious?" The archeologist huffed in what closely resembled a laugh. "I find that hard to believe."

"The life of a noble is not as warm and colorful as you would imagine," shrugged Samuel.

"I have a pretty good imagination," she replied with a smirk. "You should try me sometime."

They were quickly going off topic and the priest's resolve to continue was starting to wane.

"Nevertheless," he sighed. "When I started falling behind in my studies, my father sought out doctors and scholars to decipher what was holding me back. They eventually came to the conclusion it was due to the fact that I was unable to see properly and had a pair of custom lenses made to cure this ailment."

"But if you weren't really poor-sighted," Mira countered. "Then why didn't you just admit it outright and strive to do better?"

Samuel took a deep breath. His eyes drifted away from the archeologist's as he stared listlessly at the ground.

"Before that day, the only cure for disobedience and insolence was reprimand and physical punishment," the priest answered. "Watching my father work so diligently gave me a new appreciation for his conscientiousness."

He immediately recalled the day he received his new glasses. Though the doctor knew the truth, it didn't seem to bother him to help placate a child's ruse. Renault's reputation was legendary to say the least and earning his favor would find one receiving a suitable reward for their efforts. Samuel reflected on the very moment he peered through those clear lenses and he though for just a brief second, they were truly blessed because he could have sworn he saw a small smile peeking from the corner of his father's lips.

"It was the first kind gesture he'd ever done for me."

The air grew thick between them. When the priest could not find the words to speak he always chose silence in every scenario. Mira looked equally as uneasy but nowhere nearly as adept at handling it.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

"For what?" Samuel dismissively shrugged. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"Doesn't mean I can't be empathetic," stated the archeologist. "Despite the way I look, I know exactly how you feel."

The priest was taken aback. His mouth nearly fell agape at Mira's unexpected deduction.

"What?" She passively smiled. "You think I didn't see it in your eyes from the moment we met? Nobles are always the first to condemn me because of the way I dress or style my hair. Appearances mean everything, I get it."

"I meant no disrespect," defended Samuel.

"Yea," she nodded as her tone grew lighter. A tiny smile formed along the corner of her lips. "I understand that now. I guess we both underestimated each other, didn't we?"

"Perhaps," scoffed the priest in an uncharacteristically playful manner. "Is there anything else troubling you that I can clear up before we move on?"

"Well, I am still a little confused," Mira casually broached. Her eyes sharpened as she crossed her arms and curled her lips in a deductive manner. "If you don't need to wear glasses, then why do you still do it?"

"As a reminder," the priest boldly proclaimed. "To stay focused and vigilant in my studies. I ceased my rebellious ways when I began wearing them. And I have not strayed ever since."

"Wow," said the archeologist. A wicked grin fell upon her face. "Now I kinda want to meet the old Sammy."

"That would prove most difficult," Samuel countered. He walked over towards the edge of the cave and procured his fallen tome. The priest dusted off the newly gathered debris and slung it over his shoulder once more. "There are no records of him ever existing. At least, not within this book."

"Sounds like a challenge to me," smiled Mira. "I bet he's still hiding between the lines somewhere."

"Yes, well," he sighed while analyzing their current predicament. "Speaking of hiding, we must discuss our next move."

"Right," nodded the archeologist. Her voice grew somber. "I still want to know why those bastards attacked us. We need to pay them back for Gehn and almost killing us."

Samuel admired her vigilance in wanting to avenger her comrade despite trading heated words with him moments before his unfortunate demise. However, revenge was not on the priest's priority list. Survival was the only thing he cared about at this present time.

"Regrettably, that is irrelevant at this time," he professed. "Our enemies currently have the advantage. We must find the others or at least verify their whereabouts and safe passage back to the surface. Once that's done, we can discuss our next steps."

"I can live with that," Mira willingly agreed. "How do suggest we get started?"

"That," the priest boldly admitted. "I defer to you. After all, I do not wish to break your first rule."

The archeologist's smile shined brighter than the divine brilliance channeled in Samuel's open hand.

"I guess the old Sam really is gone," she chuckled.

Mira eyed their surroundings for a brief moment, motioning and pointing in various directions before landing at one of the larger tunnels approximately thirty-five degrees opposite of where they initially landed.

"There," she declared. "We'll start working our way through these paths and try to stay within this connected network. So long as we move through here and aviud climbing to the surface, we should be undetected."

"How far do you imagine we'll need to travel?"

"These nests should extend through the entire width of the Qiraji empire," the archeologist replied. "I imagine we can take these all the way to the end and find ourselves in a relatively safe area."

"Very well," the priest nodded. He casually stepped beside her and held the channeled vessel of light between them. "Lead the way."

Mira nodded brightly and made her way down the chosen path. Both of them had to hunch as they proceeded. The silithid were unfortunately short which made for an arduous trek. Leaning against the tunnel wall helped but there was hardly enough room to travel shoulder to shoulder which only added onto the collective stress.

They walked for hours down the insect tunnels passing additional caves and intertwined sections alike. Samuel marked each one with a careful swipe of his mace atop the roof so that it would not be easily spotted should another unwelcomed scouting party attempt to track them.

The priest's knees burned as they continued to walk. Fatigue had taken its toll and clutched Samuel in an unforgiving embrace. Sweat continued to build and pour underneath the thick confines of his armored robes. The air was musty and cold. At the very least, it provided ample cooling as they progressed through the seemingly endless tunnels.

Upon entering another small clearing, Mira rested her back against the wall and plopped on her backside.

"Let's take a quick break," she requested through thick panted breaths.

The priest nodded and took careful steps inside of the cave. Clouds of white mist exited his mouth and nostrils. There were only two ways in or out of this area including the one they just came through. Samuel calculated the variables quietly to himself. When he was satisfied with his analysis, he carefully dropped his tome near the center.

"Perhaps we should make camp here for the evening."

"What?" The archeologist was barely able to speak coherently through her overwhelming exhaustion. "If we stop now – "

"The temperature's changed considerably since we started," the priest interrupted. "The sun is well passed set at this moment. Without proper rest or rations, we will arrive even more fatigued than we are now and that may not bode well if we need to make a drastic escape or worse, enter combat."

Mira's body perked up a bit as if she were going to say something in protest. This was all a part of Samuel strategy. He carefully worded this plan as a request instead of a command. The priest was attempting to steer her towards the most logical course of action even if it may have been an undesirable one.

"You're right," she sighed as her breath finally caught up to her. "We couldn't be any more safer down here anyways. And with the way these tunnels echo, we're libel to hear any unwanted guests as well."

"Indeed."

The priest placed a light incantation atop of his mace and set it down on the ground illuminating the room in its entirety. He started clearing the ground of any overwhelming dust and dirt of various sources until a large flat patch was revealed. Once that was deemed suitable for their purposes, Samuel reached for the top button of his robes and released it from its clasp.

"Wait," Mira contested. She lifted herself from the wall and approached the priest with feverish haste. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Samuel rhetorically asked while continuing to work down the front of his attire. "In an hour or so, this place will be close to freezing. Given your chosen attire and the fact that we both failed to retrieve our bedrolls, in order to survive the evening, we are going to need to share our warmth."

"Share our what?!"

The archeologist was genuinely dumbfounded. It was as if the priest had told her that the sky was red and water was black. He could have practically said anything else at this moment in time and it would have sounded more plausible than the words actually spoken.

"I've considered all of the possibilities," he began while undoing the final button. "I could conjure a stronger light incantation that would adequately keep us warm but at the expense of exposure. It would be painfully bright and possibly hinder our ability to get proper rest as well as potentially signaling any outlying wanders to our position should they happen to catch of glimpse of the ambient light."

The robes slipped off Samuel's shoulders and arms revealing sleeveless black undergarments and leggings. Despite being thin in appearance, Samuel's toned muscles were clearly visible on his chest and arms. He spread out his cloth armor and carefully laid it down upon the cave floor as a makeshift blanket that appeared to have room to house both of them underneath.

"This is our best option," he stated while rolling up his gauntlets into crude pillows. They were small but at the very least it would keep their heads off the ground. "Unless of course, you have a better idea?"

Mira stared in awe for only a brief moment or two. The priest's explanation was more than adequate and he hoped that whatever reservations she held had finally slipped through her fingers. If she truly had a better idea Samuel was more than open to listen. Lying directly next to the archeologist for an entire evening after nearly escaping death was not something he had ever considered but given the circumstances, it would be more than adequate.

"Fine," protested Mira with an added bit of gruff in her voice. She slid down on the right side of the robes and carefully crawled underneath. The archeologist turned to her side and rested her back down the center of the thick cloth. "This is heavier than it looks. What did you do to it?"

"I had the tailor sew in several plates of steel within the thicker and flatter areas," the priest mentioned while sitting down on the opposite side. "It helps keep my body acclimated to physical stress and activity even while sedentary so that I may stay fit."

"That explains the muscles," she casually mentioned. "Usually guys like you are all skin and bones."

"There are few guys like me," Samuel retorted while securing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "As far as I've experienced anyways."

The priest carefully lied down and rolled under the blanket. He stopped immediately as soon as his arm met Mira's bare flesh along her exposed back. His nerves started to tingle with an unfamiliar tickling sensation. Her body was chilled to the touch. She was shivering profusely but hadn't spoken a word in protest. Whether it was due to embarrassment or pride was still up for debate. Samuel took a deep breath and slid closer allowing as much physical contact as possible while lying on his backside and starring aimlessly at the roof.

"Forgive me," he spoke. "I merely trying to make you more comfortable."

"No," Mira slowly answered. She clutched the cloth garment tighter and folded her knees in making additional contact with the priest. "You were right."

Samuel glanced over at the archeologist. She continued to face away from him. The dozens of rings torn into her ears were clearly visible as most of the hair on that side of her head had been shaved to nothing more than the thickness of a belt. She outright refused to turn and even acknowledge him in this position. They were lying together closer than they had ever been and yet, the priest couldn't help but feel they were miles apart. He couldn't blame her though. For someone who was used to taking care of themselves, it was hard to rely on someone especially when you were so vulnerable.

"Hey Sam," she calmly whispered.

"Yes Mira?"

The priest had just gotten comfortable. He motioned with his hands and reduced the light channeled through his mace to a faint glow that only illuminated just a few feet beyond the source.

"Is this your first time sleeping with a woman?"

Samuel choked on the air he breathed. Just when he thought things were coming down to a manageable level, the archeologist continued to surprise him. There was no proper answer he could give to make up for that unintended reaction. The priest merely huffed in response, closed his eyes, and prayed sleep found him quickly.


End file.
